The Phoenix and the Wolf
by Jaxin88
Summary: The TARDIS has landed the Doctor and Rose in London, but it's not a London they recognize.
1. Chapter 1

The sun was sinking in a cold autumn sky as a large blue box ground into existence in a shadowy corner of Diagon Alley, standing out stark and bright against the darkened, papered-up shops. The door opened with a creak, eerily loud in the tense silence of the alleyway. A tall man with wild brown hair stepped out and was quickly followed by a petite blonde woman.

"Doctor? Where are we?" Her voice was quiet, spoken only to the Doctor, who was watching the area warily.

"The TARDIS insists this is London, late 90s—but if it is, it's no part of London I've seen." He glanced back at his companion. "You?"

She shook her head, blonde hair glinting in the late afternoon sun. "No, never seen it before. You sure about the year?" Her bright brown eyes scanned the few people in the street, whose subdued robes rustled quietly as they hurried about their business. Her hot pink hoodie and light jeans stood out like a rainbow against a storm cloud.

"Pretty sure, yeah. I'll go check again."

"I'm comin' with. See if I can find anything to cover up with in the wardrobe."

He glanced back at her. "What's wrong with what you're wearing? You look perfectly fine to me, Rose."

She gave him an amused look as she headed off down the hallway. "Dunno if you noticed, Doctor, but we weren't exactly fitting in, an' that place gives me the creeps. I'm changin'."

"Don't take too long!" His voice echoed down the corridor after her and he stood there, staring into space, before shaking himself and heading over to the monitors to look over the readouts again. The TARDIS was being frustratingly vague about their location, something that shouldn't happen with this era's stealth technology. He frowned at the console. "Is that what we're doing here, then? Anachronistic tech to sort out?"

The Doctor couldn't explain it, but he had a bad feeling about this place. The tension that'd been skittering up and down his spine since the Beast's prediction had tightened, and lately he'd been loath to let Rose out of his sight—not that he was doing much better with that before Krop Tor, what with the Wire's vile attack on her. He wasn't just talking about humans when he told Ida about the urge to fall. He'd been falling ever since "_There's me_", and he was terrified of the landing. He didn't much believe in deities (but oh, how he believed in her), but he sent a open prayer, a plea to the universe that he wouldn't lose her, that he could keep this one precious human by his side for as long as possible. His eyes didn't really see the monitors in front of him. Rose strolled back in wearing a floor-length grey cloak, and his focus snapped to her with a smile before a look of shock and dismay showed up on his face.

"_WHAT_ is that, and why are you carrying it towards me?" She snorted eloquently and waved the long brown cloak at him, her lips pursed.

"This is a cloak, Doctor. You should know, it was in your wardrobe." She grinned a little at him, but a glance back at the doors seemed to sober her. "I think you should wear it."

"I've got no need to wear that! This look's a classic! Fits in anywhere!" He crossed his arms defensively across his pinstripes, uncomfortably aware that he looked like a pouting child that way. Oh, well. His pout generally seemed to work on Rose.

Not this time, apparently. She carried the long woolen _thing_ closer to him, her brown eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Doctor. I've just got a bad feelin' about this stop, an' I'll feel better knowing we aren't stickin' out too badly before we figure out what's going on."

Now, that's not fair. He could never resist her doe eyes, and the fact that she didn't seem aware of that just made it harder. The Doctor scowled (okay, fine, he was pouting), but he put the cloak on before opening the doors again, his hand instinctively reaching for hers as they stepped out.

The few minutes in the TARDIS had allowed the sun to go down and the street was nearly deserted, occupied only by those too desperate to leave. Rose gasped as she spotted an elderly man in a tattered robe curled against one of the buildings, his thin form quaking as he rocked back and forth. He was moaning, a horrible, quiet, monotonous sound. The Doctor gripped her hand tighter, pulling her closer to his side. London wasn't supposed to be like this. Unless—he stepped closer to the papered-up windows, eyes flickering over the warnings and the wanted posters. A young man stared back at him, black hair messier than his own. There was a young woman with bushy brown hair on the poster next to him, her brow furrowed in impatience. They were both moving, shifting back and forth in their frames as if pacing. Their names were written in bold above their images, and the Doctor felt his stomach drop like lead. He knew where he and Rose had landed, now, and more importantly—he knew _when_. He stepped back quickly, intending to drag her out of there if necessary, but Rose had turned to the papers by then, and she gasped.

"Undesirable No. 1—_Harry Potter?_" She stepped closer, ignoring the Doctor's worried huff. "And is that _Hermione_? No way." She stared up at him, her eyes huge in the dim lamplight. "Doctor, are we where I think we are?"

He swallowed nervously. "Well, in a matter of speaking—yes. But they aren't just children's books, Rose. They're a history, told by one of the most respected biographers in the Wizarding World." He glanced around the alleyway. "And they're a history of a very troubled time." When he looked back down at her, his dark, intense stare hit her nerves like a live wire. "Stay with me, Rose. This place isn't safe, especially for you. And I mean it this time—you _can't_ wander off, not here."

She nodded and looked around tensely. Something was off about this place. It'd been bugging her since she first stepped out of the TARDIS. Dread hung so thick in the air she was surprised she couldn't see it sitting there, roiling and oily. She pressed closer to the Doctor's arm, cuddling against its wiry strength. He tightened his grip on her hand absentmindedly, his eyes scanning the area for something, anything out of place. The more quickly they could solve whatever brought the TARDIS here, the better. Normally he'd be all for exploring such a dangerous place, but the Beast's prediction and his own more prescient senses had left him clinging to Rose, looking for the fastest way out.

_ Damn it, haven't I lost enough? I can't lose her, too. I just can't._

A subdued flash in one of the back alleyways and a muffled cry of pain and Rose darted off, yanking the Doctor out of his thoughts as she pulled him along with her. They rounded the corner in a tumble of nervous anticipation, the sonic screwdriver out and ready. A tall man with grey-streaked hair was stretched stiffly against the filthy brick wall, the pulse in his neck visibly pounding. The man facing him had a nasty grin on his face and a mad look in his eyes, and the dark wand in his hand was glowing a bloody red. He turned to glare at the Doctor, and his eyes widened in shock.

"Barty? But you're dead—that blasted old fool of a wizard let them kill you, may his miserable Muggle-loving soul rot in hell." He stepped closer to the Doctor, his foul breath rolling over them. "How in Merlin's name did you manage that?" The wizard's eyes darted to Rose and he leered, his gaze roving over her in disturbingly prolonged way. "Who's this little crumpet, then? Oh, you _have_ been holding out on us, dear Barty."

Rose moved closer to the Doctor, her mind racing. What could they do? If magic was real—and by this point in her travels, she had absolutely no problem believing that—how could they defend themselves?

The wizard strolled around the two of them, though his eyes stayed on Rose the whole time. His grin was lecherous when he stopped in front of her, dragging a long, filthy fingernail down her cheek. "It isn't nice that you haven't learned to share your playthings, Barty."

With a lightning fast movement, the Doctor knocked his hand away from Rose and had him pinned against the opposite wall. The wizard's wand landed with a clatter on the ground, and Rose grabbed it and slipped it in her pocket as the Doctor slammed a hand up against a nerve in the wizard's neck and dropped his limp body to the ground. He turned to Rose and stroked her cheek, wiping away the faint scummy trail the man's dirty fingers had left behind.

His voice was soft when he spoke, "You all right?"

She nodded and turned to the man still trapped against the wall. He had been watching the whole encounter carefully, his grey eyes hooded. "Are you okay? How can we get you down?" He blinked at her, though his eyes constantly straying to the Doctor, who was tying up the unconscious wizard with a long rope of knotted handkerchiefs he'd pulled out of his jacket pocket.

"My wand should be on the ground somewhere. Rabastan didn't bother to pick it up when he caught me." The man's voice was gravelly and tired, and Rose noticed with a small jolt of surprise that he was actually far younger than his salt-and-pepper hair and weary face would first suggest. She found the slender wand next to a small package a few centimeters away, and pressed it back into his hand carefully. A muttered charm and the man pocketed the package Rose handed to him, only to level his wand on her and the Doctor.

"Now who are you, and what do you want?" He glared at the Doctor, who stepped carefully in front of Rose.

"My name's the Doctor, and this is Rose Tyler. We just wanted to help." He pursed his lips and glared cross-eyed at the wand in front of him. "Would you mind pointing that thing somewhere else?"

"Not until I get actual answers. You're dead. They buried you, this time after making sure it wasn't anybody else."

The Doctor sighed. "You think I'm this Barty fellow, too, I take it."

"You're almost identical." The man's voice was a low growl.

"Really? Huh. Didn't know I had a doppelganger running about. I can see how that would make things interesting."

"Hand me your wands, both of you. Slowly. I want to see your hands the whole time."

Rose piped up, stepping from behind the Doctor to his side despite his quelling glance. "Mate, there's a bit of a problem, there. We don't have wands."

The man's eyes narrowed, and he leveled a truly frightening glare at them. "Impossible. _Accio wands!_" The other wizard's—Rabastan's?—wand flew out of Rose's pocket, but nothing else joined it. The man blinked. "Impossible."

"Yeah, that word has a way of popping up around us." The Doctor's cheeky grin faded when the man's face darkened and he raised his wand again, now glowing a deep orange.

"I will ask you one more time, and one more time only—_who are you?_"

"He told you." Rose was feeling impatient by then, and she glared right back at the man they'd just _helped_, for God's sake. "The Doctor and Rose. That's who we are. Now either blast us or let us go, 'cause I gotta say, the threats are gettin' a bit old."

"Rose." The Doctor's voice was low, but his annoyance and amusement carried through loud and clear.

"What? 'S true."

"Maybe, but d'you mind not telling the man holding us at wandpoint to blast us? I happen to like this incarnation, and I suppose I'm somewhat fond of you as well."

Rose rolled her eyes before meeting the man's gaze without flinching. "I figured if he was goin' to do it, he'd have done it already." Her chin raised defiantly. "So what's it going to be?"

He'd been watching the both of them carefully, and lowered his wand a fraction to pull a small glass vial out of his pockets. The liquid inside looked like water, but from the way the man cradled it, it was something far rarer. "Here. Take three drops, both of you."

Rose glanced uncertainly at the Doctor, but he just cheerfully plucked the serum from the wizard's hand and dropped three drops on the tip of his tongue. His face twisted, and he stared into space for minute. "Veritaserum, I see. Long time since I encountered that, at least a couple centuries." He grinned at the man boyishly. "What d'you want to know? You'll have to be specific, I do know rather a lot."

The wizard just flicked his eyes to Rose, who'd been watching the Doctor nervously. "Her, too."

The Doctor's voice was hard, suddenly. "There's no need for that."

"Oh, I think there is." The men's staring contest was interrupted by Rose snagging the bottle from the Doctor with an exasperated sigh.

"Fine. I'll take it. Just nothin' too embarrassin', please?"

She dropped the required three droplets on her tongue and swallowed, surprised to find the serum free of any discernible taste. How did the Doctor—? Oh, well. She'd known his tongue was talented.

The Doctor's face was beet-red in the lamplight, and the wizard suddenly looked like he was fighting back laughter.

"Oh, bugger. I said that out loud, didn't I?"

The Doctor coughed and cleared his throat, nodding emphatically. The wizard looked amused, but he sobered quickly and raised his wand again, speaking to the Doctor.

"Once more, then. Who are you?"

"I'm not Barty Crouch, that's for sure."

"I didn't ask who you aren't. I asked who you are."

"I am the Doctor."

"That's not enough of an answer."

The Doctor's eyes flashed dangerously in the dim light of the alleyway, and he glared at the wizard. "You want my other titles? Fine. I am the Oncoming Storm, the Bringer of Darkness, Ka Faraq Gatri. I am Theta Sigma, Time's Champion, and the Keeper of the Legacy of Rassilon. I am the Last of the Time Lords, and I am tired of this question." The last was spat from behind clenched teeth, and Rose stepped closer to him, rubbing his hand until he loosened his fist and she could slip her hand in his.

The wizard looked slightly shaken, but he turned to Rose without pause. "And who are you?"

"I'm Rose Marion Tyler, daughter of Jackie an' Pete Tyler, former shop girl and now intrepid time and space traveler." The Doctor snorted out a laugh at that, and she stuck her tongue out at him. "Couldn't say it if it weren't true, now could I?"

He grinned down at her. "No, intrepid's a very good word for you."

"Time and space traveler… Time Lord." The wizard lowered his wand (finally) and stared past them into nothing. "Merlin."

"Yeah, I've been called that, too."

The man's eyes snapped back up to meet the Doctor's, and he spoke carefully. "The last of the Time Lords. I've read about you. There are glimpses of you all over wizarding history, the man who can change his face but will always fight against the Darkness."

"There tend to be glimpses of me in most of anywhere's history. Can't seem to erase my footsteps well enough, which gets annoying at times."

The man's face was suddenly desperately hopeful, his gaze intense. "Come with me. Please. We've been fighting a losing war for far too long, and we need your help."

The Doctor considered him carefully. "What was your name again?"

"Remus Lupin." He turned to Rose at her sharp gasp. "What? Have you heard of me?"

"I've always wished I could meet you. You seemed like an amazing teacher—" She slapped her hand over her mouth before she could say anything else, wary of Reapers attacking because of a stray comment.

The Doctor nodded approvingly at her and turned to Lupin. "Would you happen to have any Veritaserum antidote with you? We know a bit more than it's safe to say, and I'd rather there not be any paradoxes. They really aren't fun to deal with."

Lupin handed over another glass vial, this one filled with thick green sludge. The Doctor offered it to Rose, biting his lip against a grin at her grimace as she tasted it. She was still sputtering when she handed it over to him. "Don't look so amused. It's your turn, now."

"Don't need any. I just metabolized it." He grinned and rocked back and forth as she glared at him.

"Oh, that is just not fair." She spoke quietly as she glanced back to Lupin, who was performing some complex spellwork over the still-unconscious Rabastan LeStrange. "Doctor, what can we do here? I don't want to mess up _Harry Potter_, I'd have to take Queen Vicky up on that exile offer!"

"If we're careful, you won't have to worry about any of that. After all, you've read the last book. The Order is pretty much out of the picture after the trio takes off."

"So we can help them, then?" Her eyes were wide.

"We can help." He grinned down at her, laughing softly at her puppy-like wriggle of glee.

"Oh my God, Doctor, I love you." There was a sudden silence between them, and Rose found the floor of the alleyway incredibly interesting. She yelped a little and jumped back when a rat ran over her foot. The Doctor caught her before she could tumble over, and she met his eyes nervously. He seemed to be almost as shaken as she was by her slip of the tongue, and he was opening his mouth to say who knows what when Lupin rejoined them, dragging the bound and blindfolded Rabastan LeStrange behind him. He handed over the long rope of handkerchiefs with a small smile.

"Here. I need to put him somewhere out of the way. Hopefully he won't be discovered for a while, but I'd rather not take that chance. What say you to meeting here again in about an hour?"

The Doctor nodded sharply and Lupin dissaparated, taking the other wizard with him. The Doctor looked over at Rose, his mouth full of all the things he wanted to say, but what came out was "Shall we fetch the TARDIS, then?"

Rose nodded and looked down, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fill her eyes. She should've known, really. No matter the longing glances and the ever more frequent and extended embraces, the Doctor didn't do domestic. She knew he loved her—she'd have to be blind not to see it—but he'd never act on it. She looked up at him and smiled as they walk back to the TARDIS, her hand slipping into his. It was enough, though. She loved him and she loved this life, and she wasn't going to leave either for any reason less than—she determinedly shoved that out of her head. For any reason.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Doctor moved disjointedly around the console, his mind as agitated as a drunken Jackie Tyler. _You love her. _**Of course I do, how could I not? But I can't let myself in for that kind of pain again, I just can't.**_ Bollocks. How will __not__ saying anything make it less painful when you do lose her? _**She already holds so much of me. If I give her any more, there won't be anything left when she's gone. **_Oh, please. You survived the loss of Gallifrey, of all other Time Lords that ever were or ever could be. You can survive the loss of Rose Tyler. _** I'm not so sure about that. **

"Doctor?"

He blinked, shook his head. "Yes, Rose?"

"I've been thinkin'— I'm a Muggle, right?"

"Unless you have some abilities you haven't told me about, yeah."

"Hush, you." She mock-glared at him, and he hushed, lips twitching. "D'you have anything around the TARDIS that'll help out around magic? 'Cause I'd love to help the Order of the Phoenix—God, I can't _believe_ I get to say that—but I don't really fancy bein' helpless if things get rough."

"You, Rose Tyler, could never be helpless. But I understand what you mean." The coordinates for the alleyway an hour from now were set, so he headed down the hallway with Rose following curiously. Five corridors, under the lifts, through the pool, up four flights of stairs and down seven later, and he opened the door to a cathedral-sized room filled with stacks—who was he kidding, filled with _drifts—_ of miscellaneous clutter accumulated through centuries of exploration.

Rose's jaw dropped and a very gratifying expression of awe came over her face. "Blimey, this place is amazin'!"

The Doctor, meanwhile, looked inordinately smug. "Thought you'd like it. I've been meaning to show it to you for a while." He strolled down the long aisles between the piles of clutter, casting back in his memory for the location of the item he was looking for. It was about half an Earth hour (twenty-five minutes and thirty-four and a half seconds) before he found what he'd been searching for, hanging from a glass and rubber sculpture from the Kletorian era on Xenos VII. The intricately carved gold amulet was set with a fiery red ruby the size of Rose's thumbnail, and it bumped lightly against her collarbone as he clasped it around her neck.

"Hopefully this will help. This, you see, is a null amulet. I picked it up when I last passed through Arthur's court—you've never seen anything as amusing as Morgana Le Fey trying to curse you, only to find her magic doesn't affect you."

"You're kidding... right?" He grinned and winked at her as she twisted around to get a good look at his face.

"I'll never tell," he sang and wandered off, poking around the piles haphazardly. "Blimey, I've forgotten how much was in here."

"We can explore another time, Doctor. Now, we get to go help the Order." Her delighted giggle was infectious, and they were both grinning like loons by the time they got back to the console room and rematerialized in the alley. They poked their heads out the door to find Remus Lupin staring at the TARDIS, looking rather gob-smacked.

"Don't just stand there! Come on in!"

He blinked and obeyed the Doctor, only to stop once he came in the door to stare around him. Rose shut the door behind him and strolled back to the console, thoroughly enjoying the stunned look on his face.

"I could've sworn the lore said you weren't a wizard, but this place... where, exactly, am I?"

The Doctor grinned, rubbing his hands together delightedly. "Oh, this isn't magic! Good old Time Lord technology, this is." The TARDIS shuddered, sending him and Lupin stumbling. Rose had prudently set herself on the jump seat, and she laughed at the Doctor's put-upon expression. "All right, I'm sorry! You aren't old!" The TARDIS hummed contentedly at the apology, and Lupin looked even more confused.

"Is this place _alive_?"

"It is indeed. Remus John Lupin, meet the TARDIS, the universe's best time-and spaceship."

He stared up at the ceiling, utter bewilderment replacing the seemingly omnipresent look of weariness on his face. "Nice to... meet you?"

The hum deepened, and he smiled disconcertedly. Rose patted the bench next to her and he joined her there as the Doctor fiddled with the controls.

"Is there anythin' we can do to help?" Lupin focused on her again, and exhaustion shadowed his features.

"I'm honestly not sure. Tom's got so many moles, stooges, and sympathizers at the Ministry that they've been able to track us disgustingly well." His grey eyes met her brown ones seriously. "This isn't a safe fight to get involved in, you know. You don't look much older than some of my former students."

"I'm old enough to make my own decisions, an' I'm old enough to know what's right. This war isn't easy, no. But it _is_ right."

He nodded and smiled wanly before yawning. "I apologize. I've been tracking one of Tom's most violent were operatives for three weeks, and I haven't gotten much rest."

The Doctor poked his head to from around the console and grinned at him. "You can rest here. We've got plenty of space, don't we Rose?"

"Sure. C'mon, there's a whole corridor of spare bedrooms for you to choose from." She stood to lead him, but he paused before leaving the room.

"I really shouldn't take the time—"

"Nonsense! What's the use of a timeship if you have to stay in one time? You could stick around in the TARDIS for a month and be back out there in an instant."

Rose cleared her throat, and the Doctor grimaced. "Okay, it'd be safer to say you could be back out there in an hour."

Lupin allowed himself to be led away, and the Doctor was deep in thought by the time Rose returned, carrying two steaming mugs of tea.

"Oh, brilliant! I was just thinking that a cuppa would be just the thing."

Rose curled up on the jump seat, and the Doctor joined her there a moment later. She rested her head on his shoulder, deep in thought. "Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"What can we do here? I've been tryin' to think of a plan, but I don't want it to be anythin' that'll mess up the plot— well, the history, I s'pose."

"Don't worry, Rose. If there's one thing I'd be loath to mess up, it's _Harry Potter_."

"So history's not a big deal, then?" She was grinning, her tongue playing peekaboo with her smile. He smiled down at her, holding himself incredibly still so that he wouldn't go chasing after it with his own. She sat up suddenly, eyes bright. "Got it! The TARDIS has a perception whats-it on it, right?"

"Perception filter, yeah."

"Well, can you make more? Little mini ones, so they won't have to worry about Voldemort watchin' em all the time? 'Cause I remember from the books that the Ministry had a bunch of the rebels an' Muggleborns on the run."

The Doctor's grin was wide and mischievous. Rose was instantly wary.

"What? Why're you lookin' at me like that?"

"You, Rose Tyler, are a closet nerd. I should've known— you had such a thing for Spock, after all."

Her face was flushing a pink to match her hoodie by then, and she glared at him. "Oh, shut it. Star Trek re-runs were the best thing on the telly when Mum was working at the salon. An' anyway, you can be quite the fanboy yourself. Don't think I've forgotten Dickens."

He laughed and jumped up, snagging her empty mug from her as he bounded off down the hallway. "I'll see what I can do about the perception filters. It's a good idea."

When he came back, juggling miscellaneous bits of gadgetry, Rose was nose-deep in _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. "Be careful about letting our guest see that."

She gave him an annoyed glance before turning the page. "Please, like I couldn't figure that out myself." A while later, she put the book down, a thoughtful expression on her face. "So, how's this a biography? 'Cause I remember readin' a couple for school, an' they were nothin' like this."

"Well, wizarding biographical research can be a very different thing from the regular—Muggle, I suppose—approach. There's no need for it to be all second-hand sources and interviews, unless you're Rita Skeeter and no one reliable wants to talk to you. It's why most credible scholars look down on her work. Some of the best biographies are fascinatingly in-depth reads, thanks to the use of Pensieves."

"That's what these are, then? J. K. Rowling took us back into Harry's memories?"

The Doctor was peering up at her from the floor, covered in blinking gadgets and loose wires. "Yup! Although that epilogue's a bit rubbish— she had to wrap things up neatly for the Muggle editions, since they were published as a fictional series instead of a straight history."

"So the epilogue's just made up, then?"

"Oh, yes. Life after war is never that tidy." His expression was clouded for a moment, but he shook it off when Rose joined him on the floor, staring curiously at the piles of wires and microchips.

"Well, nevermind that for the mo'. How can I help with these?"

They spent the next few hours puzzling together a stockpile of perception filters that would enable the Order to keep out of Tom's surveillance, and Rose only stopped when the Doctor sent her off to bed after she spent five straight minutes yawning more and more conspicuously.

By the time Lupin had finally woken and found his way back to the console room, _Deathly Hallows_ was out of sight and the Doctor was putting the finishing touches on a pile of rather ugly fist-sized gadgets that were stacked as high as his knees.

"Ah, good! I was wondering when you would wake up. I always forget how much sleep humans need." He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Honestly, so much time is wasted unconscious—it's a wonder you lot get anything done."

"Oh, please." Rose's voice drifted in, and they turned around to find her leaning against the doorway. "You always go on like that, but I've caught you snorin' plenty o' times. C'mon, I've made breakfast."

"I've told you, Rose, there's no real morning on the TARDIS— I don't know why you insist on going by such an outmoded schedule."

"'Cause my poor little human brain likes it, that's why. And anyway, I felt like makin' breakfast." The Doctor still looked impatient, like he wanted to run out the doors and take on the Death Eaters single-handedly, so she pulled out the big guns: "I made banana pancakes..."

"Ooh!"

They trooped to the kitchen, which had been decked out like a fifties diner ever since their trip back to the Coronation. Lupin looked far more alert after several hours sleep, and couldn't really hide his amusement at the Doctor's relish when Rose served up the promised pancakes. Rose bit back a grin as she watched him struggle to speak through a sticky mouthful. She knew that the Doctor could occasionally be a little... underwhelming to the uninitiated eye, but she'd been right there beside him as he'd changed lives and defeated tyrants. He actually was as impressive as he seemed to think, but she'd never let him know that.

Besides, being able to change the world with a sentence didn't mean you couldn't mess up occasionally. Her mum had kept up with Harriet Jones' career after their last Christmas (after all, it wasn't every day that Jackie Tyler got to meet the Prime Minister), and Rose couldn't entirely suffocate the guilt she'd felt after hearing all about her fall from grace. After all, there was no guarantee that the Sycorax _wouldn't_ come storming back, and the Doctor really _couldn't_ always be there. She flashed back to what the Doctor had said after they first met her at 10 Downing—Harriet Jones was supposed to be elected for three terms, to lead Britain into its Golden Age.

A shiver ran down her spine, and Lupin and the Doctor paused their conversation to ask if she was okay. She waved them off, finishing her breakfast without really tasting it. The Doctor was always going on about not messing up the timelines, but Rose felt with an unsettling sense of surety that he may have done just that.

"... that might be able to help. We've all been running on empty for so long, having a chance to pause and revise our plans without worrying what we're missing outside might be just what the Order needs."

The Doctor was nodding seriously, his mind already racing over the possibilities. It wasn't often that he invited a whole group of people on the TARDIS, but when it was an organization as legendary as the Order of the Phoenix, he was quite happy to make an exception. "How long do you think it'll take you to get all the coordinates I'll need?"

Lupin paused, his newly-found animation disappearing. "It shouldn't take more than a day. The Order's ranks have been shrinking since Tom sunk his claws into the Ministry. Dora's with her mother, Kingsley's been in hiding, the Weasleys have been staying with Muriel Prewett ever since the Ministry found out about Ron, Hestia and Dedalus are guarding the Dursleys... no one's actually sure where Doge went off to after Bill and Fluer's wedding. And Minerva, of course, has been keeping an eye on that _traitor_ at Hogwarts." His grey eyes flashed as he spat out the last part, and Rose bit her lip.

The Doctor watched him carefully, clearly debating whether or not to say anything. "There might be more to that story than you know."

"What, like _when_ exactly that backstabbing bastard decided to turn on Albus? I _trusted_ him. All of the times that Sirius and James warned me against him, and I still decided to trust him, and he murdered Albus in cold blood."

Rose got up quickly, setting the kettle on so that Lupin wouldn't see her expression. She had always been fascinated by Severus Snape when she read the books, and she'd cried her way through half a box of tissues after he was killed. Knowing that he was a real person, that someone actually had to go through such a viciously hard life, only to be reviled by the very people he was fighting for… it was too awful. Behind her, the Doctor and Lupin agreed on a meeting place, and Lupin headed back to his temporary bedroom to gather his supplies. A cool, long-fingered hand rested lightly on her shoulder.

"Hey. Are you all right?" She took in a shaky breath and turned, burrowing into the Doctor's chest unhappily.

"I _hate_ that we can't tell them. He's a hero, and nobody'll know till he's dead. It's just not fair."

The Doctor rested his chin atop her head, petting her hair gently. "I know, Rose. It's rather wretched, but that's the way things are supposed to play out."

"Can't we do anything? It's just so bloody _wrong_."

The Doctor raised his head suddenly, a glint of an idea in his brown eyes. "Hang on! There might be something." He hurried off to the library, muttering unintelligibly under his breath the whole time. Rose followed, her mind whirling. She was still feeling queasy about Harriet Jones, but it wasn't the time to bring it up. Almost as if he was reading her mind, the Doctor stopped suddenly and turned to face her. "That's not the only thing bothering you, though, I can tell. Did you want to talk about it?"

She looked up at him. He was so concerned, so earnest as he stared down at her. She knew that it wouldn't be an easy conversation. This Doctor—her new, new Doctor—was so completely self-assured that sometimes she had to wonder if it'd even occurred to him that he could mess up. She quashed that unkind thought with a soft smile, simply telling him, "Later." But not too much later, she added mentally.

He smiled back at her and continued his search of the bookshelves as she curled up on the cozy over-stuffed couch by the fireplace. One excited exclamation later and the Doctor flopped down next to her, holding a thick textbook and beaming fit to rival the sun. He waggled the book at her, and she smiled indulgently and took it from his outstretched hand. It had a rather battered grey cover embellished with swirling silver letters that proclaimed it _Advanced Potion-Making_. She opened the book curiously and her jaw dropped. There, in a faded, elegant calligraphy, was written "Property of the Half-Blood Prince".

"No way." She stared up at the Doctor, whose grin has only grown wider. She hadn't thought that was possible, a moment ago.

"Yes way, Rose Tyler. I picked it up at a museum auction a few centuries from now. It turns out Hermione Granger had taken it from the Room of Requirement before the trio went on their camping trip. She published a new edition with several of his notations incorporated a few years later—well, his _and_ her notations."

"So, what'd you pull this out for? Just to be impressive?"

He pretended to consider this. "Depends. Are you impressed?"

She snorted and paged carefully through the old book. "I refuse to answer that for fear of your head explodin'. Lord knows it's big enough already."

The Doctor sighed melodramatically. "You're a hard woman, Rose."

"Yeah, you love it." There was another awkward silence, and Rose barely had time to kick herself before the Doctor slipped a finger in between the leaves she was paging through. The notation at the top of the page he'd stopped at proclaimed it to be the instructions for the Draught of Living Death, and after she read it she met his eyes excitedly.

"This is it? D'you think it'll work?"

"I'd have to talk to the man himself about it, but from what I've read of this potion, it would cause the symptoms Harry saw while keeping the body in a kind of stasis. It just might be enough to save him."

There was a knock at the doorway, and the Doctor slipped the old textbook in between the cushions before Lupin saw it. The wizard was smiling, the relief emanating from him erasing years from his face. "If you could drop me off soon, I'll be able to contact the others without too much difficulty."

The Doctor hopped up, happy to escape the lingering awkwardness on the couch. "Well then, give me the coordinates and I'll have you there before you can sneeze." He was well aware that his smile looked a little forced, but there was only so much even his magnificent Time Lord self-control could take, and cuddling on the couch with Rose Tyler was a bit more than he could handle at the moment. He winced. Ooh, bad choice of words there. They headed back to the console room, and he busied himself with flipping switches that didn't need to be flipped and generally making a prat of himself. He didn't really care at the moment. Right then, he was trying very hard not to think of how comforting it was to hold Rose in the kitchen earlier or how beautiful her eyes looked in the firelight.

Rose watched the Doctor futz around, well aware of his badly-hidden unease. Oh, well. Lupin seemed unaware of it, so that was all right, at least. A sudden memory from her browsing of the seventh book earlier came to her, and she stepped closer to the werewolf. He looked down, a little perplexed. "You don't have to worry about your son, y'know. He'll be safe." He met her eyes with a mixture of confusion and desperate hope, and she smiled reassuringly up at him. "He won't be a were." Lupin gasped oddly, more a puff of air than a gasp, really.

The Doctor announced their arrival at one of the Order's safe houses with a flourish, and Lupin agreed to meet them there the next day. As soon as the werewolf was gone, the Doctor turned to Rose with an odd, puckered expression.

"And what was that, Rose Tyler?"

She batted her eyelashes innocently, intent on drawing out his discomfort as long as possible. He never really needed to make an idiot of himself, but apparently that was his coping mechanism when he felt uncomfortable. She wasn't exactly fond of it. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Oh, come on. The closeness and the whispers. What's all that about, anyway? You can say anything around me, you know that. Rassilon knows I've said pretty much anything around you."

"Doctor, are you _jealous_?" He pouted at that, and yup, he absolutely was. "It's nothin' you have to worry about, I just thought I'd calm 'im down a bit about Teddy. I just feel so bad for the poor kid, and I want 'im to enjoy the time he does have with his dad." As she spoke, Rose addressed the grating on the floor. She saw the Doctor's trainers approach out of the corner of her eye and looked up, startling him with the tears in her eyes. "Least I had Mum, growin' up. I dunno what I'd 'ave done without her, even if I was raised by relatives."

"Oh, Rose." He pulled her close, shoving away the pesky inner voice that railed that _You're too close to her already, and this is behavior most unbefitting of a Time Lord! _He'd never really cared about proper Time Lord behavior before, and Rose was hurting. Besides—yes, he could admit it to himself—he _was_ feeling a little jealous when he saw them standing so close together earlier. Just a bit. He only wanted to kick Lupin into the Vortex, that's all. He smiled a little wryly as he let her go in order to pilot the way to their next destination. He'd thought the possessiveness had faded with his regeneration, but apparently not.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The TARDIS rematerialized with a jolt as Rose sniffed and wiped away her tears, scowling a little at her stuffy nose. Running around weeping wasn't exactly how she had pictured spending her time in the Wizarding World. The Doctor bounced over to her, hand out and fingers dancing.

"Come on, then. No time to waste—well, plenty of time to waste, really, but why would you want to?" With a crooked grin, he opened the doors and stepped out, only to stop short, blocked by a long, dark wand pointed directly at his nose. "Ah. Yes. Well." He stopped, sighed. "I suppose I should be somewhat used to this by now, but it's just as unpleasant every time."

Rose had prudently stayed within the TARDIS, and she snorted at that. "Maybe if you stopped bargin' into every situation without lookin', you wouldn't have to deal with it so often."

A smooth baritone interrupted them before the Doctor could properly retort, as did the wand that was now pressing closely against his jugular. "While I find myself agreeing with your companion, I would ask that she joins you out here. I can assure you that you will not like the consequences if she doesn't."

Rose hastily stepped out of the TARDIS, hands empty and away from her body. Snape glanced at her with approval. "Wise choice." Returning his dark gaze to the Doctor, he gave him a thorough perusal and frowned. "If infiltrating Hogwarts was your intention, borrowing the likeness of a known dead man was not a well-informed decision."

The Doctor grinned boyishly at him, which seemed to only increase Snape's hostility. "Oh, I wasn't planning on infiltrating Hogwarts—lovely way of putting it, by the way—well, unless you mean the part where I did, in fact, just infiltrate Hogwarts." He paused for a moment, regrouped. "Right. I came to talk to you, actually."

"And so you chose to steal the form of a long-deceased known associate of mine." Snape's voice was dripping with scorn, somewhere between disbelief and contempt.

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds awful. But I haven't actually stolen any forms. This happens to be _my_ form, it just looks like this Crouch fellow." He paused. "At least this time around."

"This time around? What, precisely, do you mean by that?"

"Well, I suppose I should introduce myself." The Doctor reached up to ruffle his hair, and froze as Snape's wand snapped back up to his face. "Right. Shouldn't do that. Anyway! I'm the Doctor."

Snape's left eyebrow winged up skeptically. "The immortal so-called Time Lord?"

"Ah, you've heard of me! Yup, that's the one. Although I'm not so much immortal as very very very long-lived—at least according to human standards. By the Boe-kind's standards, I'm practically a spring chicken."

Snape snorted, and the Doctor's lunatic smile faltered. "And I suppose you want me to take it on your word that you are a being out of legend, an evergreen man whose existence and interference has been consistently mentioned through wizarding history—but _never_ corroborated."

"That's the basic gist of it, yeah."

"I am neither a fool nor an innocent, and if you think I will believe you than you are the former."

Rose piped up, tired of watching the stalemate. "Were there any mentions of the peculiarities of the Doctor in your legends? Anythin' like a certain ship he travelled in, or somethin' weird about his body?"

Snape sneered at her. "I am not interesting in hearing about any… carnal knowledge the two of you share."

"Not like that!" Rose's face was flaming, but she wouldn't back down. Being on the receiving end of Snape's scornful tongue was quite different from merely reading about it. "I meant odd physically. He's got two hearts, for instance."

The Doctor sighed, glancing down at her. "Rose, that just depends on whose standards of normalcy you're going by. Two hearts? Not odd to me."

"Yeah, well, you're on Earth at the mo'. You'll have to get used to that bein' a bit weird here."

Snape's brow was furrowed, though, and he froze the Doctor momentarily while he checked his pulse. "So, whatever you are, you're not human."

"Yeah, I said that already. I'm a Time Lord. I can travel through time and space with the flick of a switch—and that's why I know that you didn't betray Dumbledore, that night on the Astronomy Tower."

Snape flinched and stepped back, his already pale skin suddenly deathly white. "How do you—no one can know that."

"We haven't told anybody, don' worry."

He stared at Rose, and then back at the Doctor. His voice was low and dangerous when he spoke. "How do you know of this?"

The Doctor's voice was soft, as if speaking to a frightened animal. "The truth will out, Professor."

"And did the boy—was it worth it, in the end? Did Albus' plan work?" There was a ragged catch to his voice as he finished his question, and Rose's eyes prickled. This wasn't right. No one should have nothing but a promise to a long-dead love as their reason for living.

The Doctor sighed, the weight of years hanging off him as he spoke. "I can't…"

"Yeah." Both men turned to her, the Doctor with surprise and annoyance and Snape with an odd sort of longing. "Yeah, it works. The Dark Bastard gets what 'e deserves, and Harry survives."

"Rose. A moment please?" The Doctor dragged her into the TARDIS before either she or Snape could respond, and shut the door emphatically. "_What_ do you think you're doing?"

"I'm givin' him hope, Doctor. I've almost never seen anybody who needs it more." She stared up at him, refusing to back down, and he sighed.

"It could mess up the whole timeline, someone having knowledge of future events."

"An' what are we doin' here, then? You just told him about future events yourself, when you told him what you know!" The Doctor's mouth opened, and she halted him with a finger across his lips. "No. You don't need to worry about it, Doctor. If there's anyone who will carry on and finish what he started, it's that man out there."

"You haven't even known him a minute."

"I know his history. I know what sort of dedication he has, even if he's a bit nasty to deal with. Besides, what were you goin' to say to talk to him about the potions he should have? That you just decided to pop in because you were curious?"

The Doctor coughed, a slight flush on his cheeks. "I was going to frame it as a question of academic curiosity, yes."

Rose's jaw dropped. "Really? Did you _really_ think that would work on a double agent who's survived for _twenty years_?"

His lips pursed and he turned to go back outside, his greatcoat swirling behind him. "Yes, okay, I can see how that might've not worked. Shall we go?"

She was fighting laughter, but accepted his hand easily and followed him out the door.

When they exited the ship the second time, there was no wand to accost them. Severus Snape had retreated across the room to stand beneath the large, gold-framed portrait centered above the heavy wooden desk at the back of the circular room. Rose squeaked quietly in excitement as the portrait moved, and the Doctor watched her with an amused eye. The bright-eyed elderly wizard turned from his soft discussion with the Headmaster to greet the two of them, a wide smile ruffling his waist-length beard.

"Hello, Doctor. I see you've changed your face again."

"Albus." The Doctor grinned up at the old Headmaster, his eyes bright and happy. "Always good to see you, old friend."

"And you, Doctor. I've missed our chats."

Rose had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping, but the battle swiftly changed to keeping herself from laughing. Of _course_ the Doctor and Albus Dumbledore were friends. Blimey, they probably had tea together and discussed the best ways to be irritatingly omniscient and enigmatic. The Face of Boe most likely joined in for chess once a month. She bit her lip to keep from snickering, but sobered as she met Snape's turbulent gaze. There was such a morass of emotion in his dark eyes, apprehension and hope and pain and doubt all crowded together and fighting for dominance. It was so reminiscent of the look that her first Doctor sometimes wore that she felt an overwhelming rush of empathy and loss. She knew the Doctor was right beside her, chatting with Albus, but sometimes she couldn't help but miss the manic, hard-bitten man she had first known. She stepped closer to Snape, speaking softly so as not to interrupt the other two.

"I can't imagine what you've gone through, an' I won't say I understand, 'cause that'd just be daft. But I will say this: what you've done is worth it, in the end. Harry Potter may be the Chosen One an' all that, but it's _your_ actions that give 'im what he needs to defeat Tom." She smiled nervously up at him, and he blinked rapidly, his face carefully blank. After a moment, he inclined his head gravely.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Jus' thought you deserved to know."

The Doctor's voice broke into the mutual quiet, cheerful and loud. "Oh, that's right! I haven't introduced you yet. Rose!" She returned to his side, and he beamed down at her as he took her hand. "Rose Tyler, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine, Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Albus, this is Rose Tyler."

She blinked at the string of names, which the Doctor had easily rattled off without taking a breath. "Blimey. Now I feel inadequate—I've only got the three names, myself."

The Doctor snickered, and Albus chuckled. "Not to worry, my dear. I was never fond of the number of names my family gave me. It made roll call rather a bother at times."

A loud crack echoed through the tower room, and a brilliant gold-and-red bird appeared, circling the room smoothly.

The Doctor cried out gladly, "_Fawkes!_ Oh, I haven't seen you in ages!" The phoenix made a startled noise and landed clumsily on Rose's shoulder, his beak carding through her hair as he hid his face in her golden strands. She jumped but steadied quickly, a hand reaching up to gently caress the beautiful creature.

When she looked away from him, she was startled by the varying expressions in the room. Professor Dumbledore seemed absolutely fascinated by the exchange, his blue eyes wide behind small pince-nez. Snape was watching her carefully, his face unreadable but for the sharpened interest in his gaze. The Doctor had stepped back at Fawkes' flutter. He was trying to block all expression much as Professor Snape had, but she knew him too well to believe he was actually unaffected. His brown eyes were dark, stormy with grief and anger.

There was a tense silence in the room, magnified by the harsh patter of rain on the windows. After a long moment, the portrait's oddly flat voice broke the uncomfortable stillness. "My friend, what has happened?"

The Doctor's jaw twitched, and his eyes darkened further. His hands tightened into fists in his pockets, distorting the lines of his long overcoat. Rose bit her lip, sure he was going to drag her out of there, away from the pain of the question. To her shock, he spoke instead, his voice low and pained. "There was a war, Albus." He closed his eyes and lowered his head. "There was a war, and we lost. _Everyone_ lost." The last was a bitter whisper, and she stepped closer to him instinctively, her hand diving into his pocket to find his. His jaw tightened for a moment before he eased his fist, grasping her hand instead with a nearly bruising grip. Fawkes dislodged his head from Rose's hair, his bright eyes locked on the Doctor. He began to keen into the heavy silence of the room, a low cry laden with grief. A tremor ran through the Doctor, making his hand shudder as it clutched hers. Rose's eyes filled with tears, and she half-noticed out of the corner of her eye that both Snape and Dumbledore had lowered their gazes.

The Doctor stood frozen for a long moment, locked in memory. She tightened her hand in his, and the squeeze brought his eyes back to hers. His gaze shifted as he stared down at her, the overwhelming grief fading into a soft sort of reverence. "It seems Fawkes still has flawless judgment when it comes to people."

Rose raised her chin, glancing at the phoenix on her shoulder. "'S not necessarily true—he ducked away from you, after all."

The Doctor's eyes clouded again, and he smiled bitterly. "That only proves my point all the better."

She shook her head as fiercely as she could without dislodging Fawkes. "You're wrong, Doctor." Fawkes trilled into her ear and glided from her shoulder to the Doctor's, where he cocked his head and began to preen the Doctor's wild hair, cooing contentedly. Rose grinned broadly. "See?"

The Doctor peered at Fawkes as closely as he could before settling his gaze on Rose again. There was a wary sort of disbelief in his eyes, and Rose felt something twinge deep inside her chest. This brilliant, beautiful, endlessly compassionate man was so _certain_ he was a monster, that he didn't deserve anything but pain from the universe. She'd never seen anyone who was as volatile a combination of hubris and self-loathing as the Doctor.

His eyes flicked from her across to Snape and Dumbledore, and his voice was curious when he spoke again. "I have to ask, though, what's Fawkes doing here? I thought most phoenixes chose not to go on after their human partners' passing."

"It is always a choice. Phoenixes are far beyond wizarding comprehension, Doctor, and I am of the mind that they always will be. Fawkes has continued to help the Order, although most of them will never know that. He's keeping an eye on our three runaways for Severus, here."

Rose's eyes widened. She'd always wondered how Snape knew where the trio was going to be, when he gave them the sword. She reached up a hand to smooth over his feathers and Fawkes arched into her touch, trilling happily.

"I have to say, I've never seen Fawkes take to anyone so readily as Miss Tyler here." Dumbledore's smile widened. "I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose. No one who travels with you is anything less than extraordinary."

Rose bit her lip, and she glanced up at the Doctor with dancing eyes. When he looked back at her, she snapped her fingers quietly. He smirked as Albus continued.

"I do have to ask, though, what the two of you are doing here. I've never known you to be one for mere sight-seeing."

Rose snorted. "Yeah, he's not happy 'till he's running for his life."

"Hush, you." The Doctor tapped her nose and turned to watch Snape, an alien, calculating look flickering over his face before he strolled towards the dark man. "I know that Albus has given you your orders for when Tom becomes obsessed with Nagini. I won't be presumptuous enough to give you orders, but I am here to give you advice: be prepared. What happened to Arthur Weasley is a kitten scratch compared to what that poor creature is actually capable of."

Snape eyed him skeptically. "'That poor creature'? I've seen that 'poor creature' consume a grown woman, my _colleague_, whole. Nagini takes nearly as much pleasure from chaos and violence as her master does."

"She wasn't born that way! She was just a simple snake, until she had to misfortune to be adopted by Tom Riddle. Would you like to have a chunk of the darkest wizard of your time's polluted soul attached to you?" Snape's eyes widened, and the Doctor nodded in satisfaction. "Thought not."

"So it _was_ Horcruxes."

The Doctor blanched. "Sorry, what?"

Snape had already turned to face the portrait, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. "It was Horcruxes. That's how he's survived for so long." His voice was low and cold, almost arctic in its rage. "And _despite_ the fact that if I had known that I could have searched them out while I was by his side, you decided to withhold that information from me."

"Severus, my boy—"

"_Stop._ I've had enough of being your bloody pawn, Albus. Dammit, you can't keep doing this to me, to all of us."

"If you had known and searched them out, he would have discovered that we knew his weakness. This is our one true chance at completely destroying him. It had to play out this way."

Snape's eyes were nearly sparking by this point, and his bellow rang through the room. "No, it bloody well did not, you old fool! If you had _told_ me, I could have _found_ them, _destroyed_ them! For God's sake, man, the fate of the Wizarding World rides on the shoulders of a boy who barely has to shave! He's just a child, Albus! What sort of sick reasoning puts that much responsibility on one so young?"

"I couldn't allow for the chance that you would be discovered—"

"So you'd rather trust an arrogant boy than me. I've given you my life, Albus. I've stayed at your side for years, putting myself through hell because I believed that you could lead us out of this mess. Now tell me, old man—_did I make the right decision?_"

There was silence in the tower room. The Doctor had stepped back to look out the rain-pelted window, his face almost painfully blank. Rose stood nervously next to him. She had to clench her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching out to comfort Snape, who looked like he was one straw from breaking. A vivid, angry red had suffused his face, and his large nostrils were flared. His dark eyes looked pained and angry in equal measure. Albus, on the other hand, had followed the Doctor's example and receded into stiffness. The strained atmosphere in the room had left them all as tense as a violin string, and the sudden flash of lightening took them all off guard— as did the hollow, gravelly voice that spoke from the doorway.

"_**The Bad Wolf will howl at the solar eclipse, and her light will abolish the Lonely God**_."

Rose yelped, her grip vise-tight around the Doctor's arm. She stared at the woman who had just drifted into the room, wafting a strong scent of cooking sherry with her. She was dressed in countless clashing layers, as if she were wearing her whole closet on her back. Looking at the woman's hazy, miserable expression, that didn't seem like a far-fetched explanation. Her green eyes blinked into focus behind thick bottle-cap glasses, and her mouth formed an odd moue of confusion. "Severus? What are you doing here?"

Snape had composed himself during Professor Trelawney's—there was no one else it could possibly be— distraction, and his stiff bearing and smooth voice betrayed nothing but bored disdain. "I believe I am the one that should be asking that question, Sybill. After all, it is _my_ office that you've invaded."

She looked around her in startled embarrassment, only now seeming to recognize where she was. "Oh, yes, I see. I'm— I'm very sorry to have bothered you. I'll just leave now, then." Her rictus smile did nothing to hide her fear, and she stumbled backwards out of the room as quickly as she'd entered it, muttering wretchedly about getting more bottles. Snape sat down at his desk, pinching the bridge of his considerable nose tiredly.

Rose blinked, trying desperately to ignore the heavy sense of foreboding that trailed down her spine. The Doctor's hand had grasped hers during the discussion, and he was holding on so tightly that her bones were grinding together. They'd been running into far too many prophecies for either of their comfort lately.

She valiantly ignored the quaver in her voice when she spoke. "Doctor? I thought we were finished with Bad Wolf. It's gone, we haven't seen it since the Game Station." Her question seemed to free the Doctor of his paralysis, and he eased his grip on her hand immediately, though he didn't let go. There was such desperate frustration in his dark eyes that she had to fight not to flinch when he turned his gaze on her.

His voice was eerily flat when he spoke. "She's wrong."

Albus interrupted gently, his tone somewhere between consoling and didactic. "Though Sybill's normal behavior may lead you to be somewhat dubious of her talents, I myself can testify that she is, indeed, possessed of the Sight. Sybill Trelawney's true prophecies are nothing to be ignored, Doctor." The Doctor's gaze snapped up to the portrait, and Rose had never seen him look more certain.

"She's_ wrong_, Albus. I've already encountered the Bad Wolf. It's over." He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair, his other hand still grasping Rose's. It wasn't as painful as it had been, but his grip was still tight. The Doctor turned to Snape suddenly, his face eerily serious. "Don't forget what I said." With a curt nod and an "Albus." to the portrait, he turned and stalked back into the TARDIS, Rose waving a half-hearted goodbye to the two wizards as she hurried beside him. As soon as the door was closed, he moved mechanically into the dematerialization sequence. Rose shifted quickly around the console, helping with the familiar pattern.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As soon as she felt the customary rumble that signified the entrance to the Vortex, Rose turned to the Doctor. He was refusing to look at her, instead running his hands over the many levers and buttons of the console. "Doctor. What's the Bad Wolf?" He froze, and Rose felt a sinking in her gut. He'd never been fully open about what happened on the Game Station, always brushing her questions off with a quick quip or distracting her with a new adventure. She wasn't about to be blown off again, not this time. "Doctor, is it Daleks?"

His brown eyes shot up to hers, filled with shock. "What? No!"

"Than what is it? 'Cause last time we ran into it, Jack left an' you regenerated. I thought I'd—I thought I'd lost you. I can't go through that again, Doctor, an' I'm _not_ just gonna stand here, smile stupidly, and go along with your excuses. I need to know what Bad Wolf is if we're gonna stop it."

"We don't need to stop it. It's gone, I made sure of that myself."

"Than why won't you tell me what it is? What _was_ it, to have you this scared?"

He stormed over, grasping her shoulder tightly in his long hands. "Look at me, Rose." His gaze bored down into hers. "Because of the Bad Wolf, I almost lost you. You nearly _died_. I can't—it's gone, can't you just accept that?"

"No, Doctor, I can't. I know you're this great big bloody Time Lord, an' I know I'm just some stupid ape, but damn it, I deserve to know what it was. I've promised you forever, Doctor, but I have to ask myself what the hell I'm doin' stayin' with you if you won't even respect me enough to tell me the truth."

He staggered back, his skin a sickly ashen tone in the green-gold light of the TARDIS. "Do you—are you saying you want to leave?"

"_No_, you daft pillock! I'm tellin' you I want you to tell me the truth, not just give me more excuses, or… or distractions!"

"Rose, I can't tell you. It's too dangerous. I won't risk triggering it." He stopped, looking horrified at what he's said.

Her voice was low, barely louder than the constant background hum of the TARDIS. "What do you mean?"

But it was too late. He turned away from her, slender frame stiff. Rose recognized this look—he wasn't going to tell her, no matter what she said. With a growl of frustration, she stormed out of the console room.

The Doctor closed his eyes, slumping against the console. _It can't be back. I STOPPED it, dammit. _**Are you really thick enough to think that you could just kiss it away? It wasn't some fairy-tale enchanted sleep, this was all the raw power of time and space combined. **_Do you think I don't know that? For Rassilon's sake, she destroyed the Daleks with a wave of her hand! And she did it... she did it for me. _**Of course she did. She loves you as much as you love her. She's just been a hell of a lot braver about it, not using Mickey Smith as a distraction and running away to 18****th**** century Versailles like some others I can think of.**

_Oh, stuff it. I know that was vile. And no, neither Mickey nor Reinette deserved to be used like that. But this wasn't just some little gesture—this was Rose committing genocide. What the hell have I done to her, that destroying an entire species was nothing? _**It wasn't nothing, it was necessary. The Daleks had to be destroyed. There's no reasoning with them, and you know that better than anyone. Their hatred is absolute, and they would have destroyed the universe—not to mention you—if it weren't for that one incredible pink-and-yellow human. **_Yes, I know she saved me! Sometimes it feels like that's all she's ever done. And you know what happened when she appeared out of the TARDIS—she nearly died. She nearly burnt to a cinder while I watched, all because she loved me. I still don't know what the bloody hell the TARDIS was thinking, allowing Rose to do that._

The console sparked angrily at him, and he pulled his burnt fingers away with a yelp. His hands came up to wipe at his face, and the weight of centuries pulled on him as he collapsed on the jump seat. He hated withholding the truth from Rose, and he could understand why she would think it was a matter of respect—but it wasn't. He flashed back to when he saw her step out of the TARDIS on Satellite Five, golden and powerful and so full of love, and for a moment he couldn't breathe. He'd been underestimating Rose before that, he knew. Sure, he loved her, but he'd been able to keep himself in check (barely) because she was just another human that came along for the ride—a strong, clever, endlessly compassionate human, but a human nonetheless. But when she appeared before him, glowing and powerful, all those ingrained boundaries collapsed into so much golden dust. He'd been humbled, awed, and horrified in equal measure. She had been about to die, and she was going to die _for him_. He saved her somehow, happily laid his life on the altar for her, but he'd been scrambling to rebuild those defenses ever since, and he could feel them weakening with every smile and every hug.

Ironically, refusing to tell her about the reason for those defenses' collapse might be the very thing that built them right back up, stronger than steel. His hearts stuttered at that, and he was on his way to her room before he'd even made a conscious decision to seek her out. Her eyes were red-rimmed when she answered his tentative knock, dark trails of mascara smeared hastily away.

"Rose. Can I come in?" His hearts were pounding far too quickly for such an insignificant situation (**right, keep telling yourself that—maybe in a few centuries you'll actually believe it**). Rose's gaze was stony as she stepped away from the door, walking across the messy room to sit stiffly against the ornate carved headboard like the ones they'd seen on Jonastros Gamma. The Doctor stepped in gingerly before sitting himself on the delicate chair in front of the matching vanity table. He felt gangly, awkward, out of place in this clearly feminine room, like an invader in a foreign land. Rose's level glare wasn't helping. With a rush of breath, he was across the room and sitting beside her in a moment.

"Rose." His hands wandered to his scalp, as tended to happen when he was stressed, and he was sure by this time he must have looked like a tornado was his hairstylist. "Bad Wolf is… Bad Wolf _was_ you."

Her reddened eyes were suddenly wide as saucers. "What d'you mean?"

"When I sent you away from Satellite Five, you decided that wasn't exactly cricket." He chuckled ruefully. "I don't think I'd realized exactly how stubborn you are 'till then. I still don't know how you managed it, but you got the heart of the TARDIS open, and you… bonded."

He paused, looking at Rose's thunderstruck expression. "I hadn't been able to finish adapting the Delta Wave, and if I'd used it, I would've killed not only everyone on that satellite but every living being on Earth." He swallowed heavily and continued, a faint trace of a Northern accent hanging off his words. "I couldn't do that again. I'd erased all the other Time Lords to rid the universe of the Daleks once, and they just kept coming back—I couldn't sacrifice the Earth on the off chance that that I'd finally end them."

"Then you came back, against all my hopes and fears. You were a goddess, Rose. You erased the Daleks and saved me, but all that power…it was killing you. No one's meant to have that much power." His eyes snapped up to hers. "What the hell were you _thinking_, coming back like that? If I hadn't taken the Vortex from you, you would've burnt to death, and what for? For me! For Rassilon's sake, Rose, I'm not worth that!"

His voice had risen to a shout, and Rose had pressed herself back against her headboard, nearly physically propelled by the force of his anger. "You nearly _died_ in _front_ of me!" He took a deep breath, expelled it shakily. His voice lowered from a shout to a whisper. "You nearly died."

When she spoke, her voice was very soft in the still room. "Why didn't I remember this?"

When he looked up at her, she was surprised to see that his eyes were damp. "When I took the Vortex from you, I had to remove the Bad Wolf—_all_ of the Bad Wolf—as well. It was burning through you like wildfire."

"You took the Vortex. That's why you regenerated—you took it to save me. Oh, God, you died 'cause of me." Her voice shook, but he grasped her chin gently and pulled her up to face him.

"You saved me, Rose. Without you, I'd have been exterminated, and not even Time Lords can survive that. So don't you ever regret it because of some daft reason like that—you saved me and the entire universe when you destroyed the Daleks."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

His eyes went very distant, although his hand continued gently caressing her cheek. "I know what it's like, to have destroyed an entire race. I didn't want you to have to live with that."

"I'd do it again."

He stared at her, and his other hand clenched into a fist on his thigh. "What?"

"I'd do it again. I saw what the Daleks were capable of, Doctor. Just one nearly took out a whole base in Utah, and that was because I was too stupid to understand what they were. They'd never stop until everyone else was gone, and if I had to do it again, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He stood suddenly, his hands fisted deep in his pockets. He refused to look at her, and she glared up at him. "I don't regret it."

She could barely hear his voice when he whispered, "What have I done to you?"

A loud snort brought his attention to the bed again. "You opened my eyes, Doctor. Yeah, I once felt sorry for a Dalek—an' look where that got us. A couple hundred people died 'cause of my stupidity." Her voice cracked a little at that, and he took her hand, sitting stiffly beside her once again. "I can't afford to be that naïve anymore, not when so many lives were on the line. You can't be, either, an' you don't get to feel guilty for me growin' up."

He wouldn't meet her eyes, so she gripped his hand more firmly in her own. "Doctor, the Daleks are made of nothin' but hatred and rage. You _can't_ reason with 'em, an' I refuse to feel guilty for savin' the universe from their bigotry. You shouldn't either."

At that, his eyes finally met hers. For once, she could see his emotions clearly—sunny and hyperactive as this version of the Doctor was, he was a lot harder to read than her first Doctor. Regret, sorrow, anger, enough guilt to swallow the universe—all these and more were swirling in his ancient eyes, and her voice dried up.

There was a charged moment, and he began to say something before stopping and swallowing. A false smile was pasted on his face, and he bounced up with all the manic energy of a three-month-old puppy. "What say you to getting the Order, then?"

Rose responded with a smile that was just as false. "Be there in a mo'. I'm gonna get cleaned up, first."

He paused before he left the room. "You're wrong, you know."

"What?"

"You're wrong. You weren't stupid in Utah, and you aren't stupid now. You didn't have all the information—no other than me did, and Van Statten refused to listen. But you _weren't_ stupid." He'd turned back around, now, and she couldn't look away from him. "You were just your incredibly compassionate self, and you should _never_ regret that."

He was out the door before she could blink, and she shakily wiped away the remnants of her smudged makeup, cursing when she accidentally poked herself in the eye. There was so much unsaid between the two of them, and sometimes she thought the tension would drive her mad. The Doctor could be so cold and alien at times, and then he'd turn around and say something that took her breath away. The emotional dance they'd been doing left her dizzy, and sometimes she found herself nostalgic for the simplicity of her old relationships.

A lop-sided smile appeared as she cleaned her face in front of the mirror. She'd never found the dating game very hard—looking like her, guys were always interested. After the Jimmy Stones debacle, though, she'd gone running into Mickey's arms, and tried to tell herself that she was happy with the safety and the comfort of their relationship. It wasn't until she'd met a mad alien in leather that she realized how empty her life was, even with a mum that loved her to bits and a boyfriend that would always be there for her. She missed Mickey every day and she knew she took her mum for granted, but she couldn't find it in her to regret leaving them behind. Mickey was finally living up to his potential, and Jackie had dedicated so much of herself to taking care of Rose that she was only now learning to let go.

The mascara wand was in her hand before she paused and tilted her head, staring into the mirror. Maybe she didn't need it. With a shrug, Rose recapped it and headed back to the control room, where the Doctor was sending them back to the safe house they left hours ago. The TARDIS shook, and Rose grabbed onto the railing with a laugh as they landed. This life wasn't be safe and it wasn't always comfortable (she'd landed on the grating so many times that she was surprised there weren't Rose-shaped indents in the floor by now), but she loved it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

With a shudder and a thump, the TARDIS landed in the nondescript Order safe house that they'd left Lupin in yesterday. The man they'd dropped off yesterday was tired but hopeful, but the one they greeted was far different.

Rose's stomach jolted. "Mr. Lupin? Are you alright?"

He blinked up at them, coming back from whichever far-off land had captured his attention so fully. "Please, call me Remus." He looked around the dingy house warily, the stress coming off him in waves. "May I enter?"

The Doctor nodded hastily. "Of course! Come on in. If you have the coordinates, I'll be on my way to picking them all up—if you stay in here, you might want to hold on to something. The TARDIS isn't the smoothest ride in the galaxy." A disapproving hum shimmered out of the console and the Doctor glared up at it. "Oh, come off it. You know it's true. It's not an insult."

The wizard watched the Doctor with a weary smile, a ghost of his earlier amusement. Rose felt her brow furrowing—something had happened, something seriously wrong. "C'mon, why don't we get a cuppa in the kitchen?"

His laugh was rough, gravelly from disuse. "Sure, why not. Nothing more British than tea and sympathy, after all."

He followed her to the sunny kitchen, stumbling a little as the TARDIS shook during dematerialization. Rose had kept her balance through the turbulence with the ease of long practice, and he shot her an awkward smile. She flitted around the kitchen, collecting mugs and spoons while the kettle heated. The Doctor joined them just as the tea finished steeping, and he and Rose sat comfortably close to each other once it was distributed. The Doctor took a long sip before leveling a serious gaze at Remus.

"What's happened?"

Remus sighed into his mug, the steam swirling out in a puff. "You recall that I mentioned that none of us knew where Elphias Doge had run off to?" He waited for their nods before continuing grimly. "Well, we found him. His body was left outside the Ministry this morning." He set down his mug with a clunk, burying his face in his hands. "None of us thought to go after him, even though he was the oldest surviving member of the Order. Poor old fool. He tried, he really did, but he couldn't even hurt a fly." He swallowed a dry heave, sweat standing out on his forehead. "And they tore him to shreds. He was barely identifiable. The worst part of it is that no one's going to do anything about it. Riddle's got such an iron-clad hold on everything that _The Daily Prophet_ has been trumpeting his death as if he were a dangerous vigilante."

When he looked up, his eyes were a little damp. "I can't thank you enough for this, you know. I understand that you won't be able to interfere much, but we've all been running on empty for so long." He laughed shakily. "I'd though my life was hard, before. I'd never realized how exhausting just living in this cesspool of a life could be, day after day."

The Doctor nodded grimly and stood. "Have you got the coordinates for me? I'll try to space the pick-ups as closely together as possible, so there's less of a chance that anyone's absence will be noted."

Remus nodded jerkily and handed over a small slip of parchment, his eyes tracing the dregs of his tea. Rose rested a hand gently on his shoulder before following the Doctor back to the console room. She watched him dance about the console, long limbs flailing coltishly but somehow still graceful. "Doctor?"

"Yep?"

She bit her lip, trying to figure out what to say. "How come you're doin' this?" She waved her hands helplessly when he gave her one of his 'poor dribbling ape' looks. "No, not why you're helpin' 'em—I understand that, 'course I do. I was just wonderin' why you're okay with the TARDIS playin' conference centre."

He sniffed, full of wounded dignity. "The TARDIS is far more than that, I'll have you know." He hid a grin when she shot him a scornful look that should've had him suing for copyright infringement. "Do you have any idea how important the Order of the Phoenix is, Rose? Across history, people have had to deal with small-minded bureaucracies and thoughtless prejudice, two of the most poisonous tendencies of the human race—well, any sentient race. But these people, these magnificent people, they refused to be blinded. They faced the reality that no one else wanted to see, and they fought against it. It takes amazing strength of character to deny the comfortable lie, and their story will continue to inspire people for millennia. Just look at the impact of those books on your culture, where people think they're just a story—can you imagine if people knew it as a history?"

Rose nodded as she helped the Doctor pilot the TARDIS. He caught her watching him and smiled at her, something soft and possessive in his eyes. She smiled back at him, watching him hit buttons and pull levers madly. She'd never imagined how amazing her life could be until she'd met him, how amazing she could be, but he'd seen that in her when she couldn't even see it herself. She'd just have to return the favor.

The TARDIS settled with a thump, and Rose hurried to the door to welcome the first members of the Order. The door opened to a small parlour, where three people stood, watching the TARDIS warily. A tall black man in deep purple robes had stepped in front of the others, and a pregnant young woman with vibrantly pink hair stepped from behind him to study the ship. "Huh. Remus wasn't kidding." She turned to the others, and nodded decisively at them. "Well come on, let's go!" The other member of the group, an older woman with thick, dark hair and faint lines of pain etched on her lovely face, nodded faintly and followed the others. She stared at the console room as she passed over the threshold, and Rose smiled reassuringly at her.

"Come on in—you might want to follow me, I'll get you settled in the kitchen. It gets a bit bumpy in here when the Doctor's drivin'." She ignored the Doctor's grumbled protest and led them further into the ship, patting the wall gratefully when she found the kitchen right next to the console room. Remus was slouched in a corner of the cherry-red booth, but he slipped out when Tonks entered the room.

"Dora." She flew to him and hugged him as tightly as she could around the swell of her belly, and Rose busied herself with preparing tea for the others. Kingsley and Andromeda turned to sit, and blinked when they found that it had shifted from a booth to a long table.

"Yeah, sorry about that. She tends to change around without warnin' sometimes—a bit disconcerting, at first, but dead useful." Rose set a plate of biscuits on the table and set a kettle on, instinctively bracing herself as the TARDIS shook through another take-off. She was amused to notice that Tonks had ended up in Remus' lap after the shudder, and that Remus was looking a little squashed. "I'm Rose Tyler, by the way. It's lovely to meet you all."

Tonks grinned at her and shifted to the seat next to her husband, who was looking somewhat guiltily relieved. "You can call me Tonks, though that's a little outdated, now. Callin' me Tonks-Lupin's just too much of a mouthful, though. This here's my mum, Andromeda Tonks,"—the older woman nodded, looking a little green—"and Kingsley Shacklebolt." The elegant wizard nodded gravely at her, his eyes a little distant.

"Miss Tyler, I could not help but notice that your associate looks a little familiar."

"If you mean he looks like Barty Crouch, then yeah, we've heard that. It's just a coincidence, though. He's not a wizard."

Kingsley frowned. "Are you sure? What is this place, then, if not magical?"

"'S alien. The Doctor's not human at all, wizard or Muggle. He's a Time Lord."

"He actually is _the_ Doctor, then?" Rose turned to Andromeda and nodded, and the older woman sat back with a wondering expression on her face. "I'd always wondered if he existed. There are so many stories of him in old Wizarding tales, just random mentions, but he's there." She glanced at her daughter and sighed. "It's what brought Ted and I together, when we were at Hogwarts. He had always been so interested in the old Wizarding stories." Rose got up to set the tea pot on the table, and rested a hand gently on Andromeda's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

The witch stiffened. "How do you know what happened?"

Rose flushed and bit her lip. "The Doctor filled me in on what was happening. The tea should be ready now, I'll go see if he needs help piloting." She ducked out of the room and hurried down the corridor, cursing under her breath. "I have _got _to be more careful than that."

"Than what?" Rose yelped and spun around to find a panting Tonks behind her. The young witch grinned. "'Bout time you slowed down. I wasn't sure I could keep up with you, with this little nugget." She rubbed her stomach fondly, but her eyes were sharp. "What d'you need to be careful about?"

Rose sighed and leaned against the wall. "I know a lot of the history of this time, but bein' a part of the events is so different."

Tonks cocked her head. "Where are you from, then?"

"Oh, I'm from London, born an' bred." She grimaced. "I've been travellin' with the Doctor for a while, now, but I can still get messed up when it comes to established events."

"Sounds like Department of Mysteries stuff, right there."

At that, Rose laughed. "What d'you want to bet they've got a whole section on the Doctor?"

"Blimey, I bet they have." Tonks grinned back at her. "Kinda makes me want to go snoop around there again."

Rose's eyebrows shot up. "Again?"

"New Aurors always get sent down there after they're hired—it's the old team's idea of a joke. Send 'em looking for some office or other and see how long it takes 'em to get out."

"Lord, that sounds awful!"

"Well, it all depends on how easily freaked out you are—I thought it was brilliant, myself, but I know of one bloke who ended up gibbering in terror when he found the brain room. They had to send an Unspeakable in to find 'im. The Director was _not_ happy with us."

Rose laughed again, and grabbed the wall as the TARDIS settled again. Tonks had managed to stay upright, but just barely, and Rose winced. "Here, you want to head back to the kitchen? It gets a little wobbly around here, sometimes."

Tonks grimaced. "D'you mind if I rest somewhere else for a bit? Mum and Remus are so stiff around reach other, and it gets really tiring playing peacemaker all the time."

"Sure, no problem. The library should be around here somewhere—it's always wonderfully quiet in there, and you can't even feel the shakin'."

The two of them rounded the corner, and Rose grinned as she saw the familiar oak door. "Here it is. You want some company, or does alone time sound better?"

"No, of course you can stay! It's your ship." They settled on the plush, over-stuffed couch, and Tonks leaned back with a happy sigh. "Blimey, I can't even tell you how good it feels to just _relax_. We've all been falling apart, lately, and Mum and Remus are so protective that I can't even walk out of the room without one of 'em following me, just 'to make sure I'm safe'. Worst part is, I can't even be truly annoyed with 'em, 'cause I just end up feeling guilty for being mad. Mum's been hurting so much since Da died, and Remus is so scared of losing me and the baby." She wiped a hand over her eyes. "Sorry, I'm sure you don't want to hear me blathering on about myself."

Rose reached over and rested her hand on Tonks' arm. "'S okay, really. Sometimes you just need someone to listen, or else you feel like you'll burst."

"Thanks." She laid a hand on top of Rose's, her eyes bright. "And really, thanks for this." She waved her hand vaguely at the enormous library. "We've all quietly been going out of our heads, just trying to keep ahead of him. This is exactly what the Order needs, really. Remus has been trying to do the work of ten people alone, and he's been running himself ragged, and I know the rest of the Orders' not much better off." She rested a hand gently against her swollen belly. "As happy as I am for the little one, I wish I could be out there, actually _doing_ something." Tonks paused for a moment, her eyes brightening suddenly. "Were you the one who told Remus our baby's going to be a boy, by the way?"

Rose blushed. "I just told him that your child wouldn't be a were. Why?"

Tonks laughed. "I wanted it to be a surprise, but he's been suggesting only boy names since then."

Rose winced. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'm just glad the little one's going to be all right." She stared into the fireplace, her expression suddenly far older than that of a laughing young woman. "He was so scared, Remus. He hates that part of himself, and Mum agrees with him. She knows firsthand how prejudiced Wizarding society can be. Her own family tossed her out after she fell in love with Da, and she didn't want me to have to deal with bigotry like that." She laughed tiredly. "Just about the only thing they agree on is that me being married to a werewolf is a bad thing."

"What, even Remus?"

"Oh, yeah. Took me ages to convince him that I really did want him, and that he really did deserve to be happy. He was always going on about how he was too old, too damaged for me."

Rose sighed. "Blimey, do I ever know how you feel."

"What, you and the Doctor?"

She bit her lip. "Kinda. I'm absolutely mad about him, and I know he loves me, but he's just so hurt, and I don't want to cause 'im more pain." Her lips twitched half-heartedly. "And your husband has got nothin' on the Doctor when it comes to who's older."

"What do you mean?"

"He's over 900 years old."

Tonks whistled slowly. "Yeah, I see what you mean. Blimey, and I thought _our_ age gap was bad. You're what, early twenties?"

"Yeah. Not sure how old I am, actually. Time gets a bit wonky, livin' in here."

There was a brisk knock at the door, and the Doctor stuck his head in. "Ah, there you two are. I've picked everybody up, and they're all in the kitchen. Come on."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The table in the kitchen had expanded to fit the group that crowded around it. There was a mass of gingers on one side, and Rose had to bite back a giggle as the Doctor watched them longingly. Tonks slipped into her seat next to Remus, and Rose and the Doctor sat down across from them. An older witch in tartan robes was next to the Doctor, and she nodded gravely at him, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. She cleared her throat, and the group quieted, although the twins kept muttering asides to each other. The Doctor leaned back on his chair's hind legs and spoke.

"Right. For those of you who don't know yet, I'm the Doctor and this is Rose, and we are all in my frankly magnificent time ship, a.k.a. the TARDIS. It stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. I travel through time, but no, we are not going to go back and kill Tom Riddle as a baby. I have to stay within the structures of history, or else all of existence falls apart. Trust me when I say you don't want to see that—it's not pretty. What I _can_ do, though, is offer you this: a safe place to rest and regroup." His good cheer faded abruptly. "I know what it's like to fight a seemingly hopeless war. I know how utterly demoralizing it can be. You're safe here, and you aren't missing anything out there. We're suspended outside of time, at the moment. Rose and I will help as we can, but our roles will primarily be as facilitators, not participants." His eyes cut towards her at that, and she frowned but nodded. He smiled again, and set his chair down with a thump. "And that's all I have to say, really, and that's something I never thought would come out of this mouth."

Rose snorted, "Me, neither." He shot her an amused glare, and she poked her tongue out at him.

Professor McGonagall nodded again and spoke. "Thank you, Doctor. For those of us who have been cut off from outside contact, I believe a review of recent developments may be in order. Kingsley? If you could share what information you have gathered?"

He cleared his throat, but before he could speak, a deep voice interrupted from the Weasley clan. The man who spoke was stout and broad-shouldered, his bright red hair trimmed close to his skull. "Sorry to interrupt, ma'am, but I have to ask, why are we trusting this bloke? He says he's some time-travellin' alien, and we just go, whelp, better tell 'im all we know?"

"He may not look it, but the Doctor is one of the Wizarding World's oldest friends, Charlie. He can be trusted implicitly. He helped Albus write the charter for the original Order of the Pheonix, though he wore a different face at the time."

Tonks sat up excitedly, and Rose blinked. Though her hair was still vividly pink, her face had changed entirely. "What, are you like a Metamorphmagus, then?"

"Nope. Time Lord, me. I only change when I've been mortally wounded."

There was an awkward silence in the kitchen.

"Well, that's one way to kill the mood, George."

"I'll say, Fred."

Professor McGonagall gave the twins a severe glance, and they subsided. "Kingsley? If you would proceed?"

"Thank you, Minerva. According to the sources I have at the Ministry, Tom has been able to attach not only a locator spell to all wands that have been catalogued through the Muggle-Born Registration Commission, but also a Ministry monitoring charm, much like the ones that are added to all wands of underage wizards. Any Muggle-borns who managed somehow to escape being relieved of their wands and sent to Azkaban are unable to perform any magic without Tom's knowledge. It's how the Snatchers have been able to find the Muggleborns on the run so easily." Andromeda sobbed quietly, and Tonks reached out to grab her hand.

"Any news about the trio?"

Kingsley's jaw tightened. "Not since their break-in. We do know that 12 Grimmauld Place has been compromised, though. Apparently they were staying there before the break-in, and one of the Death-Eaters was brought back with them in the chaos." Molly's hands tightened around her napkin, and Arthur rubbed her shoulders gently. "They were able to escape him and leave, but it opened the location to the Death-Eaters."

Tonks frowned. "It hadn't been compromised before then?"

"Oddly enough, it hadn't. The Aurors who were sent by the Ministry found no trace of Death Eaters previously to Yaxley's entrance. Snape hadn't been near the place."

"He's been rather _busy_ at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall spat. "He's keeping a tight leash on us. Any professorial decisions, changes in curriculum, punishments and the like, they all have to be approved by him personally. The students who have caused the most trouble have vanished, but I don't think it's the Carrows' doing—the school itself seems to be protecting them. Remus? What news from the magical creatures?"

"The centaurs have refused to meet with me. If they're disparaging towards wizards, their view of werewolves is lower than dirt. Hagrid's visits to the giants seem to have done some good—several of the tribes I'd seen refused to speak to me, but they had also driven off Tom's representatives, at least. The worst of the situation is with the weres. I've been trying to reason with different packs, but they'd rather have some power as Tom's muscle than be completely disenfranchised under the Ministry. He's got recruiters everywhere I go. It's been as much as I can do to simply stay out of their sight."

At that, the Doctor spoke up. "I might be able to help with that, actually. You saw the gadgets Rose and I were working on the other night?" When Remus nodded, he pulled out one of the perceptions filters and held it up. "These should be work. It's a personal perception filter—Rose's idea, and quite brilliant." He beamed at her and settled his arm across the back of her chair, and Rose blinked. After how jumpy he'd been around her earlier, this fawning was disconcerting. "You won't be invisible when you slip 'em on, just unnoticeable. Now you do have to be careful about putting them on and taking them off. If you do that around anyone, they won't shield you properly, so make sure you're alone. If I put it on now, for example, it wouldn't work, because you all know that I'm sitting right here. If I was out in the corridor, though, I could put in on and come in here with no one the wiser—they bounce people's perception of you off like a mirror, so any noise, any movement you make the other person will chalk up to whatever excuse their poor little brain can come up with. Dead useful things, really. I made enough for each of you, and I have more spares if you can get them to people who might need them." He pulled more out of his pockets and began passing them around the table. Fred and George were studying theirs with naked greed.

"Blimey, if we could develop some of these for the store—"

"Imagine how well they'd go over!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, unless you have access to Korpatian wire from the Tirinium mines in the 34th century, I don't think you'll really be able to replicate these."

"And aren't we all thankful for that." Minerva stood and set her empty mug in the sink. "I think I will avail myself of your offer, Doctor, and find myself a place to rest."

At her pronouncement, the meeting broke up. Rose and the Doctor led the Order members to the spare bedrooms, and the Doctor wandered off down the hallways. When he slipped into the library a few hours later, Rose had changed into warm pajamas and was curled up on the couch, paging through _Advanced Potions Making_.

"Oh! I didn't realize you were still up. We've got plenty of plotting to be done when the others wake up, y'know—I do love a good plotting session. Gets the blood pumping, does plotting."

Rose, meanwhile, rested her chin on her fist and stared at him. After a moment, the ramble trailed off. "What?"

"What was all the cuddliness at the table about?"

"What do you mean? We're always cuddly. We're so cuddly we're practically teddy bears." Rose raised her eyebrows, and he winced. "Okay, let's just pretend that last bit never happened, shall we?" Rose smirked but stayed silent, and finally the Doctor flopped down on the couch next to her, his lower lip protruding heroically. "There are too many sons in the Weasley family. Bunch of big, strapping boys, that lot. They really should have had more girls. Don't you think Charlie would have been a lovely girl?"  
>Rose started giggling madly, and the Doctor's pout grew. "What?"<p>

"You're getting jealous again, aren't you?"

"Rose, they're all big and strapping and _ginger_. It's just not fair, that."

"Y'know, if you want to be ginger that badly, we could always get Mum to dye your hair."

"Rose, I am not about to let _your mother_ smother my rather magnificent Time Lord head in putrid chemicals. I mean, blimey, have you seen that woman's hair? I'd rather be shaved bald, and I really don't think I have the noggin for it this time around. Why are you glaring at me?"

"Doctor, Mum does _my_ hair."

"Ah." He paused for a long moment. "And a very lovely job she does, too."

"Nice try."

"No, really. I've quite fond of your hair. It's very… blonde."

"You're really not helpin' yourself, right now."

"What? It's true! Your hair's lovely, all soft and gold and fragrant. Which honestly, considering how many chemicals it takes to make it that shade, is rather astonishing."

"Thanks."

"You know, I think I'm detecting a note of sarcasm in your voice."

"What, really?" She widened her eyes and batted her lashes, and the Doctor swallowed heavily. She snickered. "I just keep thinkin' about how much Fawkes seemed to like your hair earlier. Although that shouldn't've surprised me, considerin'."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "Considering what, Rose?"

"Well, a phoenix is a type of bird, isn't it? He must've felt right at home, up there."

"Are you saying something about my hair, Miss Tyler?"

"Oh, I'd never do that." She shrieked with laughter when the Doctor dove at her, his long fingers tickling her mercilessly. After a rather breathless struggle, Rose managed to pull a pillow out from behind her back and walloped the Doctor's head with it. His thick frames went flying, and he cried out in shock.

"My sexy specs!"

"Your _what_?" Rose crowed, and the Doctor blanched.

"You didn't just hear that."

"You wish, mister. Oh, I'm never gonna let you forget that."

"Promise?"

Rose stared up into the Doctor's suddenly serious eyes and swallowed. "What?"

He flushed and jammed his glasses back on his nose. "Nevermind, gob just got ahead of me again. You know how it is—I should really try some of those Everlasting Gobstoppers, see if they actually live up to their claims—"

"Doctor." She reached out and grabbed his hands, which were nervously toying with the book she'd been reading. "I promise."

"Oh, Rose." He stared at her and tucked her mussed hair behind her ears. His eyes softened, and he smiled gently at her. "You should get some sleep. We'll have a busy day tomorrow." He stood and walked out the door, leaving Rose dazed on the couch.

She let her head flop back heavily and groaned, scrubbing her hands across her face. "Blimey, he's tryin' to kill me. He's gettin' me so keyed up I'll explode. It's the world's sexiest way to die." She glared at the ceiling. "And now I'm talkin' to myself like a nutter." At that, she stood and left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When Rose wandered out of her bedroom in the morning, she found the kitchen already filled with people. Molly Weasley and Andromeda Tonks were busy at the TARDIS' stove, which had shifted from the rather space-age appliance it normally was to a simple gas one. Arthur Weasley, Professor McGonagall, and Kingsley were deep in discussion with the Doctor, and Charlie was talking to Remus. The twins were poring over their perception filters, and Bill and Fleur were cuddled together in the corner.

"It's good to see them all together again."

Rose yelped and spun, finding Tonks behind her again. "You're way too good at that, y'know."

"Well, I _was_ an Auror. C'mon, Molly's breakfasts are amazing." She grinned as they sat at the table. "Well, all her meals are amazing."

Molly beamed at Tonks and sat down two plates full of steaming food in front of the young women. Rose's eyes widened as she took in the sheer amount of it.

"This looks amazin', Mrs. Weasley. Thank you so much."

"Oh, call me Molly, dear. And really, it's no trouble at all—I'm always glad to help out." She hurried back to the stove, and Rose shook her head.

"It's a shame Mickey's not here. He'd be head over heels in love."

"Who'fe Mihey?" Rose snickered as Tonks blushed and swallowed her mouthful.

"He's an old mate of mine—my ex, actually. I used to tease 'im about havin' a hollow leg. He would eat all the time, an' never gained a bit. It was just unnatural." She took a bite and swallowed. "'Course, the Doctor does the same thing, but at least I can blame that on him bein' an alien."

He slanted a glare at her at that, and she laughed and finished her breakfast.

When they'd all finished their meals, Kingsley spoke up. "I've heard rumors among the Aurors that there's a new wandmaker in Diagon Alley that Tom's had his eye on for a while. After the disappearance of Ollivander and the death of Gregorovitch, we can't take this lightly. Those of you who helped extricate Harry from Number Four Privet Drive may have seen his duel with Riddle. Tom's obviously interested in wandlore, and it's in connection to Harry. We can't let him get ahold of this new wandmaker."

Fred looked up from the whirring perception filter. "His name's Geoffrey Gouldman. His shop's just down the alley from us."

George nodded and continued. "He seems like a nice guy, from what we can tell, but that doesn't say much nowadays."

"What are we planning, then?" Tonks was watching Kingsley curiously, and he sighed.

"I'm not sure what we can do, really. He's almost certainly in danger, but we can't raise the alarm early, and we can't kidnap him for his own good. We have to contact him somehow and find out if he's been threatened, but it can't be someone that the Ministry is watching for."

Rose looked up. "I can do it."

"Rose, no!"

"But it's the only way, don't you see, Doctor? Nobody outside this room knows who I am, and with this," she lifted the amulet, "none of the Death Eater's magic can hurt me. They're all known members of the Order, and you're a double for a dead man. But I'm anonymous."

"You're forgetting one thing, Rose," Tonks piped up, and her appearance shifted suddenly to a ruddy, non-descript woman with mousy brown hair. "No one out there has to know who I am, either."

Remus groaned, and Andromeda reached out to grab her hand. "Please, sweetheart, don't do this."

Tonks shook her head slowly and met Rose's eyes before speaking again. "We're the best people for the job, Kingsley. Besides, you all have the perception filters. You can go along with us, if you're that worried."

"You're right." Both Remus and Andromeda turned baleful glares on Kingsley, but he didn't back down. "I may not like it, but they're the best option we have." He turned to watch the Doctor. "I hope these filters work as well as you claim they do, Doctor."

Rose stood and turned to Tonks. "C'mon, let's see what the TARDIS has for us in the wardrobe."

After Rose found them both simple but elegant robes (Tonks' jaw dropped when she saw the wardrobe, and she didn't respond to Rose for at least two minutes), she found the Doctor waiting impatiently outside the door.

She turned to Tonks. "Hey, see you in the console room in a few minutes, yeah?"

"Sure—I've got to talk to Mum and Remus anyway, see if I can stop 'em from having matching coronaries."

With a smile, she left Rose and the Doctor staring at each other.

He took a deep breath. "Rose, I don't like this."

"Doctor, remember those perception filters that _you made_? I'll be perfectly safe, all right? You're going to be right beside me."

"We'll have to be incredibly cautious about breaking cover, and you'll still be out in the open. You could be hurt, Rose."

She reached up to cup his cheek, and bit her lip at the expression in his dark eyes. "I could be hurt anywhere, Doctor. I could be crossin' the street and be hit by a bus, or I could slip in the shower and bang my head. Life will never be perfectly safe, but this is somethin' that needs to be done, an' I'm proud to do it."

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. "Just… just be careful, Rose." She felt the ghost of a kiss across her hair, and cuddled into his embrace.

The twins appeared suddenly beside them, exaggerated expressions of puppy love on both their faces.

"Really, you two are just too cute," Fred cooed, batting his lashes.

George made a face. "It's a little nauseating."

Rose sighed and extracted herself from the Doctor's arms, and he glared at the twins for a moment before striding off towards the control room. "There a reason you two are here, or did you just feeling like bothering us?"

Fred slipped to one side of her, while George stood on the other. "Six of the first, half a dozen of the second."

George sighed dramatically. "Remus nearly hexed our bits off when we surprised him."

"Annnnnd we've met Geoff Gouldman, and thought we should brief you about him."

Rose nodded thoughtfully. "Have you talked to Tonks already?"

The twins shuddered and hunched their shoulders. "She's the only reason we're still men."

"Well, even you two should know better than to sneak up on a werewolf."

Fred—or was it George?—stuck his lower lip out belligerently. "We were doing some tests!"

"_Important_ tests!"

Rose laughed. "Sure you were. What were you going to tell me about Gouldman?"

"He seems to be a nice bloke—talkative, very talkative."

George winked. "And coming from a Weasley, that's saying something."

"He's got an eye for the ladies, so he should be putty in your hands."

"He's the actual wandmaker in the store, but there's an old crone who runs the business end—"

"—watch out for her, she's a nasty one. As far as we know, not evil, but definitely… unpleasant."

"She started lecturing us one time on proper wizarding behavior and wouldn't shut up for at least half an hour."

Rose bit her lip. "And what is proper wizarding behavior?"

The twins blinked at her, their trains of thought obviously derailed. "What do you mean?"

"I'm a… well, I'm a Muggle."

George stared at her. "_Really?_ How are you living here, then?"

Rose crossed her arms. "What, you think wizards are the only ones who can have mad adventures?"

Fred winced and smacked George on the back of the head. "Don't mind my brother, he's a bit of an idiot."

"Oi!"

"What he _meant_ was, it's unusual to find Muggles that are comfortable with things that can't be explained—things like bigger on the inside police boxes."

Rose raised her chin. "Good thing I'm not most Muggles, then."

"I'll say." George gave her a measuring look. "If you're a Muggle, how do you know about the Order?"

"The Doctor and I, we travel across all of time and space. Just trust me when I say that you guys have left your mark."

Fred and George met each other's eyes over her head and straightened, identical grins stretching across their faces. "Right."

Charlie appeared from around the corner, worry written across his face. "Oi! You guys coming? We've got work to do."

"Yeah, we'll be there in a mo'." The twins both turned to face her, their expressions suddenly serious. "Listen, about the wizarding etiquette—you should be fine."

"After all, we didn't notice that you were a Muggle."

"Just follow Tonks' lead—she's bloody brilliant at going undercover."

Charlie cleared his throat. "Enough coaching, let's go."

The control room was empty of all but the Doctor and Tonks when Rose and the Weasley boys entered, and she frowned. "Where are the others?"

The Doctor was adjusting the controls fretfully, but his voice was calm when he spoke. "Already hidden. Kingsley's next to you at the moment."

She looked where he gestured, but saw nothing. "Well, the filters definitely work on me. How come you can see through them?"

He glanced up from the console, and she rolled her eyes and mouthed along as he calmly proclaimed, "Time Lord."

"Of course." The Weasleys had disappeared as well, and Rose strolled over to stand next to Tonks, who was perched on the jump seat. "Right, so what's our story?"

"Well, pregnancy can mess with a witch's magic—make her more powerful, more easily tired, less controlled." She made a face. "It's not much fun." She shifted her face, and suddenly Rose was looking at a face that was strikingly similar to her own, if a little older and rounder. "I'm your older sister, Della McMillan née Abbott, and I had an accident with my magic and broke my wand. You've been staying with me during the pregnancy, and didn't want me to come to Diagon Alley alone during these troubled times."

"What do I do if he realizes I can't do magic?"

"You're a Squib, obviously. At least, that'll be our excuse if we have to use it. It's best to keep him from any questions of that sort. Squibs aren't given much respect in the wizarding world."

"Yeah, I know." Tonks gave her a curious look, but the Doctor threw the final switch, and the TARDIS ground into motion. Rose braced herself on the railing and bit her lip at Tonks' death grip on the jump seat. Somehow, the witch managed to keep her seating, and the TARDIS settled heavily. The Doctor straightened.

"It's November 17th, 1997 out there, a Thursday morning—about 10 o' clock. We're about half a block from Gouldman's shop." He turned to leave the console room and put on his filter, but paused before he left. "Just remember what I said, Rose."

"I will, Doctor. And you'll be right there, next to me." He nodded and slipped out, and the two young women stood and headed to the door.

Tonks glanced around them. "I wish I could tell when they were ready—it's a bit eerie, just hoping they're there."

Rose grinned. "Well, I didn't open the TARDIS doors, and they're open now, so I'd guess the others are ready." She straightened and wrapped her cloak around her. "Let's go."

The Alley was nearly deserted, grey light filtering through the overcast sky. Tonks shivered and glanced around, watching the few people that scurried about their business. She looked back at Rose. "I'm glad you've come along—this is giving me the creeps."

Rose nodded and headed for the small, papered-over shop that had a neat silver-trimmed sign proclaiming 'GOULDMAN'S WANDS, now open for business' above the front door. A bell rang over the door when she opened it, and she peered into the dim interior of the shop.

"Hello? Is anyone here?"

A frazzled head of hair popped out from around the shelves, and was quickly followed by the rest of the young wizard, his glasses falling down his nose and his robes crooked. "Yes, yes, of course! Enter, ladies, please." The wizard flicked his wand, and a row of lamps set high in the wall roared to life.

Tonks followed her in, carefully leaving the door unlatched. Rose felt a draft of air against her back and tried to keep herself from wondering if it was the Doctor. She _had_ to concentrate if this was going to work. She tried her most vacuous smile on Gouldman, and fought a thrill of triumph at his slightly glazed expression. "You must be Mr. Gouldman. I've heard so much about you—this is apparently _the_ place to go for wand repair."

He cleared his throat, his chest puffing out unconsciously. "Well, yes, you've heard that for a reason." He blinked behind his heavy glasses, and his shoulders slumped. "Of course, that reason is probably that all the others are out of business. Still, I do the best I can. What seems to be the problem, ladies?"

Tonks stepped forward, rubbing a hand gently against her swollen belly. "I had a bit of a mishap with my wand a few days ago—I was trying to make dinner, and snapped it in pieces." She nibbled her lip and glanced up at him through thick eyelashes, and Gouldman nearly melted right there. "Do you think you could possibly help me? I got it at Ollivander's, but the shop was closed."

"Well, if you'll let me have it, I'll see what I can do for you."

Tonks handed over the pieces of the spare wand—her own was hidden in her sleeve, strapped to an Auror's arm harness—and sighed, rubbing her back.

Gouldman glanced absently at her, most of his focus on the broken wand. "There's a small bench along the windows, if you'd prefer to sit." She gave him an effusively grateful thanks and sent Rose a long look.

Rose smiled at Gouldman, batting her eyelashes prettily. "Do you wind if I stay here? I just find wandwork so fascinating—you must be amazing, to take over for Ollivander's so easily."

He smiled besottedly at her. "Well, I saw a need, and I filled it." He looked back down at the broken wand and shook his head. "Of course, if Ollivander's was still open, I probably wouldn't have a chance. I only just got out of my apprenticeship, you see—I don't have anything like the experience he had."

Rose frowned, her face a picture of innocent confusion "Had? What happened to Mr. Ollivander?"

He blinked up at her. "You mean you haven't heard what happened?"

She bit her lip. "No, I hadn't." She glanced back at the window where Tonks rested and lowered her voice. "Della's pregnancy has been rather hard, and we haven't gotten out much." She shook her head, voice full of resigned confusion. "I was completely shocked when I saw the Alley—I've never seen it so empty. It can't be good for business."

Gouldman's focus was on piecing together the wand, but his voice was tired. "It's not. People only come to Diagon when they can't put it off any longer, now. It's probably for the best that you and your sister have been at home. What happened to Mr. Ollivander was terrible." He continued at her inquiring look. "He was taken right out of his shop, in broad daylight." He glanced at the door—shut now, and Rose hoped the Order was all there—and lowered his voice. "They said it was Death Eaters."

Rose gasped, raising her hand to her lips. "What could they have wanted with him? He always seemed like such a sweet old man—odd, but sweet."

"I don't know. That's the worst part." He finished piecing the wand together and pulled out a thick, pungent salve, coating the reconstructed wood with it. "My old master said that other wandmakers have vanished, too—not just Ollivander, but Gregorovitch, Kiddell, and Cephalopos."

Rose bit her lip. "Sounds awful. You're quite brave, setting up shop when so many wandmakers are going missing."

He began drawing an intricate design in chalk around the gooey wand on his countertop, and smiled at her. "Well, people need their wands, and somebody's got to help them. It might as well be me."

"Stop your flirting, boy, and do your job." Rose and Gouldman jumped. An older witch had emerged from the shelves behind them, her dark grey robes merging with the dim shop. Her silver hair was pulled into a tight braid, and her blue eyes were cold. She looked Rose up and down and frowned. "I suppose you have payment for this rather tricky repair work?"

Rose frowned. "'Course I do." She pulled out the bag of Galleons that the Doctor had found in the third music room, hefting it in her palm. "It doesn't look like it's fully repaired yet, though."

"Maybe if you'd let my employee do his job, it would have been finished by now."

Gouldman flushed and sent Rose an apologetic look. "I'll be done soon, really." He glared at the witch. "I do believe _my partner_ was going to go fill out some paperwork."

The older witch sneered at him, and Rose felt Tonks at her back. "Your name may be on the door, young man, but my money owns the shop. That makes _you_ my employee. Now get back to work." She shot a glare at Tonks and Rose. "You two, over by the door. Apparently Geoff can't keep his head around pretty girls, and the sooner he's done, the sooner you can be on your way."

The two women retreated back to the bench, and Tonks cast a _Muffliatio_ spell surreptitiously. The older witch was watching them like a hawk, and Gouldman was looking ever more flustered with her at his back.

Tonks looked at Rose and opened her mouth, bur Rose raised a finger suddenly and discreetly pulled off the Doctor's amulet. At Tonks' questioning look, she explained. "'S a null amulet—the Doctor gave it to me when we decided to help out here."

Tonks nodded, her eyes wide. "I'm glad he did. Blimey, do you know how valuable those things are?"

Rose blinked as she took in Tonks' expression. "Judgin' by the look on your face, I'm guessin' very."

"It could accurately be called priceless."

Rose swallowed. "Right. This is going safely in my pocket, then. Were you able to hear the conversation from over here?"

"Yeah. So, Tom's going after other wandmakers, too. We'd known about Ollivander, of course, and Gregorovitch, but not Kiddell and Cephelopos." She paused. "I didn't even know he was still in business… huh. So Tom wants to know about wandlore, and he's willing to go after anyone, not just the masters in the field." She glanced at the counter again, where Gouldman was deep in a chant, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. "I'm glad the rest of the Order's here—I really doubt that Gouldman here has anything to do with Ollivander's disappearance, and he might actually be targeted soon. I just don't trust the witch—she was trying too hard to stop him from saying anything more."

"Yeah, me neither. You see her name anywhere?"

"No, but if she really is the money behind this shop, her name should be on the paperwork."

Gouldman finished his chant with a shout, raising the repaired wand from the counter to eye it carefully. He grinned and swished it about with a flourish, only to jump when the resulting wind knocked the papers off his counter. He set it back on the counter guiltily, sending an embarrassed look at Rose and Tonks.

Rose bit her lip against a giggle. "Yeah, somehow I'm doubting that Gouldman's a threat."

Tonks nodded, hefting herself up off the bench. "I got the same impression. It's almost impossible to fake incompetence that successfully." She grinned. "And I should know."

They walked over to the counter, paid the witch and said goodbye to Gouldman. When Rose opened the door to the street outside, though, Tonks stiffened. "Something's wrong. Rose, get your—"

She wasn't able to complete her sentence. There was a loud crack, and suddenly the empty street was filled with black-cloaked figures, their wands already raised in preparation. Tonks cried out and ducked, a bolt of green hitting where her head had been moments before. The figure that had attacked her yanked off her hood, revealing a face eerily similar to Andromeda's. Bellatrix Lestrange snarled and whipped her wand at Tonks again, her face twisted in rage. "Filthy mongrel-loving bitch! How dare you stain the family name!" Rose ducked behind Tonks, slinging the null amulet around her neck before she could react.

"Rose, what—" a hiss of green struck Tonks and left her completely unharmed, staring at the spot on her chest were it had impacted. With a wild grin, she released her wand and cast a spell at Bellatrix, shouting with triumph at her bewildered and enraged expression.

The two moved off, and Rose ducked closer to the wall, edging her way back to the TARDIS. Tonks was safe, now, and the timelines were no longer in danger of her death, but she was left in the middle of a Wizarding ambush without protection. She scanned the area quickly, her heart sinking as she saw the Doctor stumble into another alleyway. The shift in established events must be giving him a hell of a headache, and he had to be alert if he was to survive this.

A pair of ginger wizards popped up in front of her and parried a stray attack that had nearly hit her. Fred glanced over his shoulder at her while George watched the Death Eaters warily. "Rose, get out of here! It's not safe for you!"

"I've got to get to the Doctor—this shift is messing with him, he's not safe either!"

They exchanged glances and nodded warily. "Right. Where is he?"

"The alley over there—far as I can tell, no one's followed him. I just need to get to him."

"Go, Rose. We've got your back." With a complicated set of spells, they guarded her as she ducked around the corner, her heart nearly stopping as she saw the dark figure of a Death Eater raising his wand against an obviously disoriented Doctor.

"NO!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Doctor ducked around a nearby corner, his mind suffocating in the shouts and cries of pain that filled the cobblestone street. There were too many of them. The Order was badly outnumbered, a few flickers of faint color against the overwhelming black crowd. He had to get them out of here—too many of the brilliant, stubborn people out there had roles to play in the Final Battle for them to be slaughtered now. The timelines were bending around him and he shuddered, his mind pulled into the myriad possibilities that flowed around this ambush. This was _wrong._ He sank back against the rough brick wall behind him, eyes so focused on the timelines that he didn't see the dark figure that appeared, didn't see the drawn wand, didn't see Rose appear from around the corner, her eyes searching frantically for him. He did see the next moment though, saw it flash across his eyes far too quickly even as time slowed to a crawl.

Her scream of "NO!" filled the alley way, echoed by his only moments later—but his was too late. The dark figure hissed out a vicious spell as Rose dove in front of the Doctor, a flare of light that sent her reeling back against him in shock and pain even as Remus charged around the corner and attacked the Death Eater.

"Rose? _Rose! ROSE! _" She was slumped against his chest, her eyes wide with shock. A vicious slash of red bubbled across her chest, staining her grey robes a deep crimson. She raised a trembling hand to her chest, shuddering as it came away dark and dripping.

"Doctor…?" Her voice was small, with the confused innocence of a frightened child.

"Ssh. Don't talk." He stared into her eyes as he cradled her, fighting desperately to _move_, to get her out of there, to _help her, dammit_, but his body was frozen by the sight of all that blood. The cold, ancient part of his brain told him that it was too late, that he'd lived too many centuries to think that she could survive such a deep wound, but he refused to listen.

_The Valiant Child who will die in battle, so very soon. _He closed his eyes and rocked her blood-slick body against his chest, ignoring the coppery dampness that smeared his suit and the salty tears that fell from his eyes. He flinched when he felt wet fingers fumble against his face, opened his eyes to see her beautiful brown eyes staring up at him, filled with a love that almost—but only almost—hid the pain. She took a deep breath, choked out a bubbling cough as a small stream of red dripped from her mouth. He leaned closer to hear her.

"I wouldn't have missed it… for the world." She smiled up at him (_a vicious perversion of that beaming smile that he loved so much_), winced as his arms clenched around her. "I… I love you." He sobbed and rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed.

"Rose Tyler… " he took a deep breath, opened his eyes to see hers blank, staring up at him without seeing. His world froze, the ever-present gob that he'd been regenerated with failing him as he stared down into the empty gaze of the woman he loved. He closed her eyes gently and took a deep breath, tried to speak, but could only utter a deep, wrenching sob that felt as if it was tearing him apart from the inside. She was dead. Rose Tyler was dead.

A choked cry dragged him out of his personal hell, brought his eyes to the slumped figure of Remus Lupin, who was scrabbling for the wand that had fallen just out of his reach. The Death Eater he'd been fighting had pulled off his mask, revealing the mad, grinning face of Rabastan LeStrange. He looked back to them, laughing with gleeful abandon as he saw the Doctor clutching Rose's still form to him.

"Ooh, did I break your toy?" He clucked facetiously, his face a cartoonish mask of regret. "Such a shame. I'd hoped to play with her myself." He stepped closer, eyes lingering on her pale, bloodstained form, and a lascivious smile grew on his face. "Maybe I still will." When he met the Doctor's eyes again, he stumbled backwards, confusion and fear written across his face as he froze, pinned in place like a bug by the ancient, furious mind that roared through his own.

The Doctor stood, carefully cradling Rose to his chest as he stepped closer, his eyes dark and merciless. The small smile that grew on his face had nothing to do with happiness. "Oh, you just made a big mistake." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his sonic screwdriver out while still clutching her body to himself. His voice was an eerie parody of casual. "Useful tool, the sonic screwdriver. It can do pretty much anything. Of course, it helps that I've had plenty of time to invent new settings. There's this particularly useful setting that I made just for Rose—one buzz and the water's piping hot, just the right stage of boiling for her nighttime cuppa. For the times when she didn't want to bother with heating up a whole kettle of water, you see. It only takes a moment." He tilted his head to the side, frozen smile still on his face. "The human body is a funny thing, you know. Almost 70% water."

"Doctor." The ragged voice spoke from behind Rabastan, and Remus limped forward, clutching his wand with one hand and his side with the other. "Don't do this. You're better than this."

"Am I?" The Doctor's smile grew, and Remus flinched away from the twisted expression. "Do you know what I've done? The planets that have been obliterated because of me? The millennia of war and slavery that have happened because of _my_ decisions? The species that have been destroyed by _my_ hand?"

"Then _she's_ better than this!" At that the Doctor froze. Rabastan flinched into movement, crawling backwards with an almost animalistic terror in his eyes. Remus stunned and bound him without even looking and stepped closer to the Doctor, cautiously. "Rose wouldn't want you to do this, to kill because of her." He straightened his shoulders and met the Doctor's eyes, barely flinching at the weight of that gaze. "She knew you were better than that."

The Doctor stared at him, and suddenly the centuries were hidden again. When he spoke, his voice was stricken and so, so young. "She's gone."

A sudden crack caused them both to flinch, stepping back into a small alleyway further away from the battle. Remus shook his head in confusion. He knew that noise, but that was impossible… a shatteringly beautiful cry echoed through the air, and he twisted around to see Fawkes land on Rose's shoulder, weeping golden, glittering tears into her hair. The song that came from the phoenix was mournful and joyous and ancient, the notes all trilling together into a perfect harmony that was unlike anything he'd ever heard before.

The Doctor's face was slack with shock, staring at the crimson and gold creature as if he'd never seen it before. His voice was almost painfully hoarse. "Fawkes? How… how do you know that song?" The bird kept singing and Remus realized with a start that the phoenix wasn't just crying into Rose's hair, he was _singing into her ear_. The Doctor's eyes widened as he realized the same thing, and both of their jaws dropped as Rose's eyes snapped open, glowing a molten gold that reminded Remus eerily of Fawke's flames.

She pushed gently away from the Doctor's restraining arms and rose higher in the air to float weightless above the ground, her hair drifting around her in a golden nimbus. The light that shone from her eyes flooded out to envelope her whole body as she hovered, pulsing a glow that grew brighter and brighter. Fawkes darted around her in jubilant swoops, his song echoing against the filthy cobblestones and rough brick walls and dancing out into the dreary afternoon sky. With one last breathtaking cry, Fawkes vanished, and the golden light that had surrounded Rose dissipated as she floated gently to the ground.

The Doctor hurried forward to catch her, nudging aside the bloody remains of her top to stare at the smooth skin above her heart. Rose's eyes fluttered open with a groan, and she flushed when she realized that both men were staring at her chest. Her chest that felt rather drafty, now that she thought about it. She glanced down and gasped, staring at the ragged, blood-stained cloth that barely covered her. She sat up hurriedly, brushing off the Doctor's protest, her eyes darting around the alley for the wizard that had nearly killed the Doctor. "Where is—" she coughed, and stared at the blood that spattered her hand. She turned to look at the Doctor, eyes wide and frightened. "What happened?"

His face was the palest she'd ever seen it, freckles standing out like stains against his skin. "TARDIS. Now."

Remus stepped around the corner, wand drawn, as the Doctor carefully picked Rose up from the ground. She was arguing that she was fine when Remus came back, every line of his body tensed.

"Doctor, I think you should see this."

The Doctor turned the corner, shielding Rose with his body, and nearly dropped her from shock. The silence in the street was overwhelming. The Order was huddled against the side of the TARDIS, staring apprehensively at the scene in front of them. Though the street was still filled with Death Eaters, it was no longer a battle but a panorama. Every black cloaked, silver-masked figure was frozen in place, some with their spells suspended in the air in front of them. There was a faint, golden glow in the air, and the Doctor and Remus exchanged meaningful glances.

"Get the Order in the TARDIS. I'm not sure how long this will last, and I'll have to unfreeze them somehow anyway."

"Wait, what?" Charlie broke in angrily, his face nearly as red as his hair. "Why the bloody hell would you do that? We have a chance to take down this many of Tom's forces, we _have_ to take it!"

"Have you listened to anything I've said?" The Doctor snapped angrily. "I'll help as I can, but the timelines _must_ be preserved. I can interfere with history, yes, but I have to do it carefully. This?" He nodded over at the frozen crowd. "This isn't careful. I don't know precisely _what_ it is, though I have my suspicions. Now get in the TARDIS before I drop Rose." He carefully maneuvered a blushing Rose through the Order's ranks and into the TARDIS, ignoring their concerned murmurs.

"And shut the door!" he shouted over his shoulder as he carried her quickly towards the infirmary.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The TARDIS infirmary was a clean white room, and Rose's ruined robes stood out starkly against the Spartan brightness. She focused on the contrast of the dove grey and rust-colored bloodstains against the white counter, attempting to ignore the fact that she was clad only in her knickers in front of the Doctor. A gentle hum echoed in her mind, and she closed her eyes gratefully for a moment, reveling in the psychic comfort that the TARDIS provided.

Molly stopped at the doorway, tracing the ruined robes with her eyes. A purple dress was folded in her arms, and Rose sat up happily at the sight even as she attempted covered herself with her arms.

"Stay still." The Doctor's voice was calm, but his shoulders were tenser than she'd ever seen this body's.

"Thought you might appreciate this, love." He blinked and turned around, smiling robotically at Molly.

"Ah. Good idea, that. Soon as I've run some tests, I'll return all of you to your bolt-holes."

"Don't worry about it, Doctor. Just make sure she's all right."

"Of course. The TARDIS should have anything you might need—the library and the kitchen are just around the corner at the moment, I think." His smile was barely holding up, but Molly beamed back at him.

"I'll just head back to the others, then."

Her footsteps faded in the corridor, and the awkward silence of the infirmary grew heavier. The Doctor returned to Rose's side, handing her the dress while he pulled out a number of futuristic instruments. She slipped the loose cotton over her head quickly, leaving several buttons undone so that the Doctor could continue his tests.

"I feel fine now, Doctor. Honestly, I'm all right."

He stiffened at that, and when he met her eyes, Rose winced at the maelstrom of emotions in his gaze. "You were not _all right_ ten minutes ago, Rose. You were dead. I watched you die." The hand gripping his sonic screwdriver tightened until the knuckles stood out white and ridged through his skin. "What was I going to tell your Mum, hmm?" She flinched at that, and his mouth tightened. "What the hell were you thinking, Rose? _Were _you thinking? And what the bloody hell happened to the null amulet I gave you?"

"I had to take it off in the shop, otherwise the old witch could've heard everything we were saying."

He glared at her. "And why didn't you put it back on afterwards?"

"Tonks needed it more. They almost got her, Doctor, and you know that I couldn't let her die." She clenched her jaw and stared at the blood spattered across her hands. Her whisper was bitter when she continued, "At least not yet."

The Doctor closed his eyes and pulled her into his chest, stroking her hair as she stiffened and then started to cry softly into the bloodstained front of his suit. "I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so, so sorry." He stared at the blank walls of the infirmary, holding her shaking form and listening to her choked-off sobs. There was so much pain in her life because of him. She'd _died_ because of him. Hands firm and hearts heavy, he gently pushed her away from him and wiped away her tears. "Rose… "

Rose looked up and shuddered at what she saw in his eyes. She'd seen that expression before, first when he tricked her into the TARDIS on Satellite Five and then when they were trapped on Krop Tor. He took a deep breath, but the scanner beeped before he could get the words out, before he could break both (well, all three actually) of their hearts by telling her that she had to leave. The TARDIS hummed urgently in his mind, and he frowned a little as he walked over to the monitor. He could've sworn he just sensed the TARDIS singing to Rose as well…

Rose sat back on the odd table, which was smooth and warm and firm and not at all like any other examining table she'd ever seen. Well, not that that was any shock. The TARDIS was completely unique, and she patted the walls in thanks as the ship sang comfort to her. The Doctor's shoulders had stiffened again, and she bit her lip. She felt fine, for having died a few minutes ago. She felt great, actually. Like she'd just woken for a long nap and had a refreshing workout. If it weren't for the blood that was so luridly splattered across the Doctor's suit, she'd have written the whole painful episode off as a hallucination. "Doctor? What's she say?"

He blinked and came back to the infirmary, his eyes intensely focused on her. "Rose? Remember what I told you about the Bad Wolf?"

"Yeah, an' I also remember how long it took you to actually tell me what it was. What's she say?"

He sat heavily on a tall stool that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Apparently when I took the Vortex from you, the Bad Wolf already made some adjustments."

"Doctor." She slid down from the table to stand in front of him, her hands (_still bloodstained_) framing his face. "What are you talkin' about?"

"Rose, you're completely healed." His hand scrubbed through his hair furiously, and he pulled away from her, his eyes darting around the room as if following a thousand thoughts. "And it's more than that—every cell of the human body is constantly renewing itself, but the process fails over time. It gets harder and harder for them to keep creating the same cells, and as the process breaks down the body ages." He stared at her, eyes wild. "Your cells aren't breaking down, Rose. And according to the TARDIS, they haven't been for a while." He stood abruptly to pace, and she sat heavily on the stool he'd just vacated. "Have you had any sprains lately? Any bruises, colds—hell, any scratches?"

She frowned, thinking back over the past few weeks. "I got a cut on Phelios VII but it was gone the next day, so I didn't bother you with it."

"And that's normal, is it? You just thought, 'well, this is different', and continued on your merry way?"

She shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah."

He glared at her and opened his mouth to snap at her when her eyes flared with a fierce golden light. The voice she spoke with was eerily familiar, Rose's London tones overlaid with an ancient voice that nearly sang with the knowledge of the ages.

"Do not worry, my Doctor. I am safe. I knew Rose's heart long before she looked into mine, and I had long been preparing for her."

"What are you doing? Rose? _Rose!_ TARDIS, let her go! She can't handle you, you'll incinerate her!"

Rose smiled softly, her eyes blazing. "That is where you are wrong, my Doctor. When we were joined, we put in place the design for our rebirth. She and I are connected now, and I will protect her from all that would take her from you."

"You can't just decide to do that to her!"

The golden voice sharpened, and Rose's accent came through more strongly. "_We_ decided, Doctor. As in, the TARDIS and I. Don't think I just sat on the sidelines an' watched."

"But you nearly died last time you were connected! You _proved_ that you couldn't handle it—I died to save you!"

"We saw all, Doctor. Past, present, future. This was the way it was supposed to be. We saw your pain and we chose to give you our love, a love that will not leave. A love that will stay with you forever."

"Stay with me for what? For pain and terror and all the chaos that follows me? Rose deserves better than that!"

"Stop it, okay? Just… stop." Rose stood abruptly in front of him, blocking his nervous pacing. The golden glow faded and she met his eyes earnestly, brown to brown. He had to fight to not flinch away from that gold-flecked gaze. "You think I didn't understand that this life is dangerous? I knew that from the very beginning, an' I still came along. I never expected it to be all sunshine an' rainbows—I expected it to be mad an' dangerous an' completely brilliant, an' it is." A small hand gently guided his face back to hers. "Yeah, we've been through some hard times. Yeah, sometimes it hurts. But y'know what? I've _never_ regretted it."

"You don't understand, Rose! Your mum, your _life_—you'll never be able to go back now! You're different, and it's all my fault." He sank heavily onto the stool, and was surprised when his head whipped around with the force of a painfully familiar Tyler slap. He blinked, stupified. Rose was glaring at him, and for a moment he almost thought he saw steam coming out of her ears in the manner of those old human cartoons.

"You _incredible_ prat. How many times do I have to say it, huh? _I'm not leavin' you._ That old flat, with Mum an' the telly an' a dead end job? That's _not_ my life anymore. My life is here, with you, travellin' around the universe savin' the day." She groaned and pulled her hair back from her face angrily. "God, how thick can you be?"

"But—"

"_Shut it_. An' that bit about it bein' your fault? That's complete rubbish. You sent me back to that old life that you're always goin' on about, and I came back to_ you_. It was my decision to open the TARDIS—well, hers and mine. You were just who we were tryin' to get back to. So stop it with all the guilt. There's no need for it, an' it's not even yours."

"Rose—"

"An' that's another thing." She glared at him again, and he shut his mouth with an audible click. "You can't keep takin' responsibility for everythin', Doctor. You're always goin' on about how brilliant the human race is, how clever I am, etc., but it's about time you gave me some respect."

At that, his eyebrows scrunched up even as his jaw dropped. "What do you mean? I respect you, of course I respect you! Partners, remember? Shiver and Shake?"

"Yeah? You haven't acted like it. You say you respect me? Maybe it's time for you to accept that _I know my own mind_. I'm not gonna wake up one day an' just decide I'm done with this, done with you." Her voice had gone from strident to pained, and he couldn't help reaching out to pull her into his arms. Her voice was small against his crusty pinstripes. "I'd trust you with my life, Doctor." She laughed wetly. "I already have, time an' time again. Maybe it's time for you to trust me."

He closed his eyes in pain and murmured into her soft, sweet-smelling hair, "I do trust you, Rose. More than anyone."

"Yeah?" She pushed back a little, just enough to meet his eyes with her own. "Then trust that I'm not gonna walk away from you. I made my choice a long time ago, an' I'm never gonna leave you."

Really, there was only one possible reply for that. Her lips were soft against his own, tasting of strawberry lip balm and the faint, sharp tang of blood. He stepped closer, pressing her against the smooth wall as he muffled her small squeak of surprise. Her hands slipped up from his chest to his head, and he moaned into her mouth when she threaded her fingers into his irrepressible dark thatch of hair. Rassilon, he'd pictured this so many times, imagined what it would feel like to have Rose— actually Rose, not the Bad Wolf or Cassandra— holding him, caressing him, kissing him, and the reality was so much more that he could have ever dreamed.

The soft pliancy of her lips, the shy way she danced her tongue against his, the slight taste of the orange juice she'd drunk at breakfast (which seemed an impossible amount of time ago), the curve of her spine against his hands— he was drowning in her, in every touch and sigh and possibility contained in that soft, warm body. The future spun away from him, golden and endless and all held in this one small, precious human body. _Not so human, anymore_, his mind reminded him as his hands traced around the smooth curve of her waist. Rose pulled back from him carefully, kissing away the tears that he hadn't even been aware of that were running down his face. He stared at her, dark eyes wide and wild.

"I won't have to lose you. Oh, _Rose_." He fell to his knees with a painful thump, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and his head resting against her chest. Her heart twisted painfully at the shock and disbelief in his voice, and she combed her fingers through his hair, whispering soothing promises to him as he wept into her dress.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Doctor and Rose sat together on the examining table, their arms wrapped tightly around each other and their voices hushed. Remus cleared his throat from the doorway. The Doctor glanced up, his eyes bloodshot and watery. He blinked for a moment and recalled where he was, straightening awkwardly.

"Right, yes. Sorry. I just left you all behind, didn't I? Not very polite of me—but then again, it was established pretty early on that this me is rather rude." He sighed, distracted for a moment. "Rude and not ginger."

Remus' brow furrowed, but he shrugged it off and turned to Rose. "I just wanted to check and make sure you were all right. Dora's been out of her mind with worry, but I thought the two of you needed some privacy."

She beamed up at him. "I'm absolutely fine, Remus. More than fine. An' thanks—it was good to have some space." She glanced down at her bloodstained skin and grimaced. "I think I'd better take a shower before I talk to her, though—I can't imagine that I'd be very comforting at the mo'." She slipped out the doorway after squeezing the Doctor's hand, and the two men were left staring at each other.

The Doctor took a deep breath, let it out. "Thank you." When Remus attempted to wave him off, he continued determinedly. "No, I mean it. Thank you for stopping me. I just… it was Rose, and I…"

"Doctor, you don't have to explain." Remus sighed and sat next to him, his eyes on his clasped hands. "A few months ago, Dora and I were out on a mission for the Order. We'd only just found out that she was pregnant, but she refused to be wrapped in cotton wool. We were tracking a were that had been attacking Muggleborn families and we'd nearly trapped him, but somehow or another he discovered our trap and sprang it on us, instead." He swallowed heavily. "Dora was completely incapacitated, and I lost my wand. If it weren't for the fact that it was the night before the full moon, I don't think I would've been able to fight him off and save her. She and our unborn child would've been slaughtered in front of me, if I'd been an average wizard. That was the first time I was grateful for the wolf." He looked up and met the Doctor's gaze evenly. "So I understand, Doctor. I do. Dora was the one who stopped me then, and I'm happy to have been the one to stop you now."

The Doctor nodded soberly and pushed himself off the table. "I should talk to the others, see if they've gleaned anything important." He paused when Remus cleared his throat. "What?"

"You might want to follow Rose's example, first." At the Doctor's confused look, Remus gestured at his blood-soaked suit. "I can't imagine the Order would be able to concentrate on what you're saying if you popped up looking like that."

"Ah. Yes. Right." The Doctor swallowed heavily, his skin suddenly crawling. That was Rose's blood, staining his suit. How had he forgotten that? "I'll just take a shower, then—and go burn this somewhere."

When he followed the sound of voices to the library after a brisk, scalding-hot shower and a change of suits, he found the Order gathered in the expanded seating area around the fireplace. Rose had arrived before him, it seemed, and was dressed in her usual jeans and a jumper, her damp hair pulled back into a casual ponytail and her face free of makeup. She was sitting next to Tonks, steaming mugs of tea in both their hands. At his entrance she glanced up and beamed at him and he grinned back, his hearts pounding in a syncopated rhythm at the sight. He'd never seen anyone so beautiful, and she would be with him for the rest of his lives.

Tonks stifled a grin and took another sip of tea as the Doctor walked over to join the elder members of the Order at a large wooden table, taking Rose's attention with him. She swallowed and leaned back, her eyes twinkling. "So, spill."

"Hmm?" Rose blinked and focused on her again, blushing as she realized how caught up she'd been. "Spill what?"

"Well, what happened there? Yesterday you two were doing the denial thing—very well, I might add, and I speak from _long_ experience—and now he's lookin' at you like you're the sun and all his stars."

Rose smiled—a shy, hesitant, hopeful look. "Circumstances… changed. Changed rather a lot."

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "And? What does that mean?"

"It's rather hard to explain. About a year ago the Doctor and I were facing off against some of his old enemies, some aliens called the Daleks." She shuddered and wrapped her hands more tightly around her soothingly warm mug. "They're pretty much the worst creatures you can think of. Imagine Voldemort, but without any of his cuddly humanity and _with_ impenetrable armor an' a death ray that'll kill almost anything in the known universe. They'd caught us in a trap, and the Doctor sent me away in the TARDIS 'cause he thought there was no way he could survive." She took a sip and leaned her head back against the cushions. "He was wrong. I still don't remember how, but I managed to open up the heart of the TARDIS, and she an' I bonded and went back to Satellite V. We called ourselves the Bad Wolf, an' apparently destroyed the Daleks with a wave of our hand. It nearly killed me, though—that much power. It _did_ kill the Doctor. He took the Vortex from me an' regenerated, and he seemed to think that was the end of it." Her eyes sparked a hazy gold. "But when I promised him forever, I meant it."

"So you're what, immortal now?"

"I know I'll be around as long as he is. The TARDIS an' I took care of that."

"Blimey." Tonks' head thumped back against the cushion, her expression a little stunned. "Not everyday you can say you met an immortal, time travelling couple." She glanced over at Rose, curious. "So, d'you still have the woo-woo goddess powers?"

Rose frowned in concentration. "I don't think so. I wasn't able to handle it at all, first time around—just managed to get rid of the Daleks and set this up." Her brow furrowed. "Though it feels like there's somethin' else, somethin' I'm forgetting…"

"Rose?" She glanced up and found the twins leaning over the back of the couch, their expressions guilt-stricken. "We just…"

"We're so sorry."

"We should've kept a closer eye—"

"I still don't know how that bloody bastard snuck around us—"

"Oi, guys!" They stopped and ducked their chins, looking like they had just been caught stealing biscuits. Rose twisted and grabbed their hands, looking them both earnestly in the eye. "It's all right, really. It wasn't your fault at all, and I _won't_ have you blamin' yourselves." She chuckled. "Bloody and painful as it was, it happened as it was meant to happen. So, really, it's okay."

Fred and George gripped her hands tightly, and Fred spoke, his voice tight. "We're just really, really glad you're all right."

"Thanks. An' trust me, I am, too." She grinned at them, and they grinned back. Someone cleared his throat behind them, and they turned to see Kingsley standing there.

"Miss Tyler. Glad to see you're feeling better. If you would all care to join us, another meeting seemed to be in order."

The group collected around the long table, Professor McGonagall at the head. She nodded at Rose and cleared her throat. "Thank you for joining us. What we've learned from Gouldman doesn't amount to much—we'd known Riddle was after wandmakers before, and this has just confirmed it. However, it seems to be in conjunction with Mr. Potter, and we must do our best to support him in absentia. There are some very real concerns about Tom getting the information he wants, and we must do our best to stop him. Kingsley?"

He nodded gravely at her. "As far as we know, he's been heading after well known wandmakers before this. Gouldman's attack was most likely because of his location in Diagon Alley—from what I observed, he doesn't seem skilled enough to warrant specific interest."

Tonks frowned. "D'you think it was because we were there, then?"

"It's possible. Was your wand recently inspected, Tonks?"

"Before I headed off on leave, yeah. But that was _months_ ago." She pulled out her wand and studied it suspiciously. "Is it possible that they've had tracers on it for that long?"

"We've only been seeing lately how deeply Tom's forces are embedded in the Ministry. You can bet he's been putting the pieces in place for a long, long time. That brings up our next order of business—" Rose snickered, and the Doctor unsuccessfully attempted to hide a smile—"sabotaging what Riddle-inspired Ministry functions we can." He looked around at the group seriously. "This could get very dangerous. With the amount of lies that Tom has been producing, there's more anti-Order sentiment out there then there is against the Death Eaters. If we'll be working against the Ministry, we have to be ten times as careful as we were before."

"Don't you have a radio station?" Rose flushed as the group turned to stare at her. "Well, if Riddle's been publishing propaganda, why not tell your own side? You could do, I dunno, a pirate radio station."

Kingsley nodded thoughtfully, but Molly frowned, confused. "What's a pirate radio station?"

Fred and George had straightened at Rose's suggestion, their eyes bright. Fred turned to his mother, his expression already thoughtful. "It's an illegal radio broadcast—no need for a studio, just piggy-back off the official channel. We could do it from anywhere."

George grinned. "We would do it anywhen."

"We could get Lee—he's got enough experience as an announcer."

"And we could pass on where & when Snatchers were sighted."

Professor McGonagall nodded her head decisively. "Then that will be your responsibility, boys. Do we have any system set up for distributing perception filters?"

Remus looked up from a quiet discussion with Tonks. "I could supply them to wizards on the run as I visit the different packs."

"Good. Then that's what we'll do." The meeting continued, and Rose sat back thoughtfully. She'd just changed history, but apparently she had already changed history. She shook her head and finished her tea. Thinking too much about it would give her a headache, and she'd had a long enough day already. The Doctor caught her hand under the table and squeezed it, his dark eyes worried. She smiled reassuringly back at him and focused on the meeting again, only to find it breaking up. The room emptied slowly until it was just them and the bookshelves that stretched to forever.

"Come on, you look tired." Rose followed the Doctor over to the couch, curling into his side when he sat down. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"I'm not _tired_, exactly. More just... oh, I don't know." They rested against each other contentedly, with no need for any more noise than the soft hiss and crackle of the fire. After a long silence, Rose spoke softly into the Doctor's blue suit (and where had he pulled _that_ from?). "Why can we save Snape, and not Remus and Tonks or Fred? I just don't understand."

The Doctor's eyes shut tight as he wrapped his arms firmly around Rose. "I could say it's because Snape's ending is more fluid, I could say it's because the others' deaths inspire Harry to defeat Voldemort, but the truth is, I don't know why. I don't know what makes a person's death necessary while another could live. Time is cruel, Rose, and it doesn't make sense." He rested his nose against her hair and breathed in her scent to distract himself from the thought of Teddy Lupin. "If I could save them, Rose, I would."

"It's not your fault, Doctor. I know you would, if you could. I just kinda hate it, that's all."

He raised her face gently to his, his expression guilty. "Are you sure you want to stay, Rose? I've dealt with this for centuries, and you're still so young. Forever is a long time, after all."

She raised an eyebrow at him and poked him in the side, grinning when he squirmed. "Yeah, thanks, I know that forever's a long time. I'm not stupid, Doctor." She sobered. "An' yeah, of course I want to stay. It's hard, this life. But that doesn't change anything. I'm never gonna leave you, got it?"

He smiled down at her, eyes suspiciously bright in the firelight. "I don't know. You might have to keep saying it for it to get through. I can be quite thick, if you haven't heard."

"Fine." She grinned up at him and leaned up, trailing soft kisses across his features as she spoke. "I'm never. Gonna. Leave. You." He bent down and captured her lips with his own and she shoved all her regret and all her worry out of her mind, focusing instead on the texture of his slightly chapped lips and the way his hands trailed across her back. This life was beautiful and terrifying and heartbreaking, but it was so much _more_, and now it was hers. More than that—it was theirs.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

When Rose woke the next morning, the Doctor had already left. She sighed and curled up further into his covers, relishing the slightly spicy scent he'd left behind. She sniffed again and grinned as her slowly awakening brain identified the smell he always carried with him—cloves, oranges, and the dry, musty scent of old books. Somehow she wasn't surprised. Her other Doctor—and she'd have to ask which regeneration he was by number sometime, because the last time he'd just said he was the New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New Doctor, and that was just annoying—had always smelt of pine trees and engine grease. It was an odd mixture, to be sure, but comforting. But this smell suited her (New, New—gah) Doctor perfectly. She stretched and sat up, her hair completely blocking her eyesight with all its tangled glory.

The door opened, and Rose heard an irritatingly familiar snicker. She groaned and pointed a menacing finger in the general direction of the snicker. "Oi. No makin' fun, I just woke up an' my brain's not fully online yet."

"Is it ever?" At that, Rose reached back and grabbed a pillow, tossing it in the direction of the (far too amused) voice, which yelped and protested rather loudly. She pushed her hair back from her face, finding the Doctor retrieving the dangerously fluffy projectile from where it had bounced off of him. He sighed dramatically and looked forlornly at the dark blue cushion. "I come to gently wake you from your slumbers, and I get assaulted by pillows."

"Your life is tragic, really. Look. I think I'm cryin'. Anyway, I was awake already."

"Really?" She nodded, attempting to finger-comb her hair into some semblance of neatness, and he sighed and flopped down next to her, idly watching her struggles. "Blast. I was really looking forward to the waking up part. You might want to get a brush, by the way. You're liable to lose a finger in there, and I quite like your hands. They fit with mine rather perfectly."

She stared at him, amused, and he twitched. "What?"

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Be so incredibly rude and sweet at the same time."

He grinned. "I'm a complicated person, Rose."

She rolled her eyes and settled on twisting her hair into a loose knot at the back of her head, leaving her fringe to fall haphazardly around her face. She glanced at him, suddenly shy, just as he was peeking at her. She laughed and shook her head, and more of her hair fell from its loose coil. "Good morning."

He beamed at her, making a sound like a vocalized smile at the back of his throat. "Good morning, Rose."

She raised her eyebrows at him and grinned, her tongue peeking from between her teeth. "What, no lecture about how there really is no morning on the TARDIS?"

The Doctor paused, pretending to deliberate. "Well, I _could_ do that. Or, I could do this." At that he leaned up and kissed her passionately, his tongue dancing across the seam of her lips as his hand tangled in her hair. She opened her mouth to meet his tongue with her own but he pulled back, a slightly disgruntled look on his face. "I've been wanting to do that ever since I first saw your incredible smile, and now that I've finally gone and done it, your hair has attacked me."

"What?" He shifted his hand carefully and Rose yelped, her hands flying back to her scalp.

"My hand's trapped. You should come with a warning label. ROSE TYLER: BEWARE OF MORNING HAIR."

She glared at him from a few centimeters away. "Is this your idea of a gentle awakening? 'Cause I gotta say, it needs some practice."

He grinned, utterly unrepentant. "Good thing I've got you, then."

She scowled at him as she carefully extricated his hand from her hair. "Oh, no you don't. Bein' all romantic won't work on me now that you've nearly pulled my hair out." His eyes widened pathetically, and his full lower lip trembled. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Not gonna work. An' besides, _how_ old are you again?"

"About 1,135, but who's counting?"

She paused, his hand free from her hair but still cradling her head. "Wait, seriously? I thought you were 900."

The Doctor flushed suddenly and flopped back, and Rose bit back a giggle. "Well, I didn't really say that I was 900, more just sort of implied it." At that the giggle burst free, and it was his turn to scowl. "What? People get weird when they hear you're over 1,000."

"Because it's _so_ normal to live to 900 and look like you."

He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her, adopting a rather scary high-pitched voice. "When 900 years old you reach, look this good you will not."

Rose collapsed against him, giggling helplessly. "I cannot _believe_ you actually teased me about bein' a nerd."

"Oh, come on, that movie's a classic! Completely wrong about almost everything, of course, but a classic nonetheless."

"Sure it is." She patted his chest and got up, collecting her clothes from beside the bed and tugging down on the loose pyjama top she had borrowed from him—she suspected it was Howard's, and quickly cut off that train of thought. She rested a hand against the wall and concentrated, and grinned as her bedroom door appeared in front of her. She patted the wall in thanks and stepped through, and the Doctor followed her to flop on top of her bed. She glanced at him, bemused, before shrugging and gathering her clothes for the day.

"Taking the sly route, Rose Tyler? Don't want the others to know our torrid secret?"

"What, that we ended up talkin' so late that it was just easier to fall asleep together?" She yawned and grabbed a polka-dot set of underwear as the Doctor blushed. "Yeah, that's really the stuff of Mum's bodice rippers."

The Doctor shuddered from his hair to his trainers. "Now _there's_ something I don't want to think about."

"Then don't think about it. Stay here if you want, but I'm takin' a shower."

When she emerged from her shower, there was nothing but a wrinkled bed and a new door to show that the Doctor had been there. With a shrug Rose headed off to the kitchen, where she found Molly and Andromeda sipping tea with a rather desperate-looking Tonks. The younger witch lit up when Rose entered the room, and stood hastily. "Ah, Rose, there you are! The Doctor told me that I should show you the... thing whenever you got up. Come on, let's go."

She towed Rose hastily out of the kitchen, pausing once they were several corridors away to release a deeply relieved breath. "Oh, thank Merlin you showed up. Mum and Molly were telling me all their pregnancy horror stories, and great Circe, does Molly have a lot of those." She bit her lip as she glanced at Rose. "Sorry if I dragged you out of there before you got any breakfast, I just couldn't take it anymore."

Rose laughed and led her around the corner. "It's alright, there are at least three kitchens in here—they keep shiftin' around. There's another around here somewhere." She opened a swinging metal door to find a small galley, the appliances all perfectly matched and almost painfully clean. Rose filled the toaster and grabbed an orange, peeling it while she set the kettle on. Tonks shook her head and sat at the tall serving counter, looking bemusedly around at the plethora of sparkling chrome.

"How do you get used to this? This place is just incredible. I don't think I'd ever stop exploring, if I lived here."

"I dunno. It used to make my jaw drop, every new, impossible room I found. And now... now, it's just home." She out her toast and slathered Venusian berry jam on it, pouring boiling water over the tea leaves the Doctor had picked up for her on Kevlin.

Tonks cocked her head to the side, curious. "Do you still have family?"

"Yeah, my Mum. The Doctor fixed my phone so I could call her almost anywhere an' anywhen, an' we stop by to visit every so often."

"Does she know about the immortality thing?"

Rose winced. "No, not yet." She sighed into her tea. "I dunno how I'm going to tell her. She only just started to get along with the Doctor, an' I'm afraid this'll just set them off again."

Tonks nodded solicitously. "Do they not get along, either?"

"They didn't at all, at first. He brought me back a year late—it was an accident, of course—and she slapped 'im. But now I think they're actually rather fond of each other." She grinned and took a bite of her toast. "Or at least they're fond of how much they get to complain about each other."

Tonks laughed. "Sounds like the typical in-law situation, then."

Rose choked on her tea and coughed violently, her eyes tearing up. "The Doctor an' I, weren't not—" she paused and took a deep breath. "We're not—"

"You're not what? Not like that?" Tonks smirked at her and poured Rose more tea. "That hickey on your neck says otherwise. Besides, didn't you tell me the two of you had promised each other forever?"

"Yeah, but it's not like we're _married_." Rose sat back, stunned. It was such an easy thing for her to promise the Doctor forever, but the thought of him as her husband sent her mind reeling.

"You've promised your lives to each other. What else d'you think marriage is?"

"I just... god, I dunno. Just thinkin' about the Doctor and some poofy white dress at the same time makes my brain hurt."

"That's the traditional Muggle wedding dress, right? The ceremony's just some party you start it off with. Marriage is a lot more than that. It's about knowing that there's someone who will always be there for you, not matter what. It's about knowin' you're not alone, as long as they're there."

Rose finished her breakfast and cleaned up, her brow furrowed. "I already know that, though. He's got my forever, an' now I've got his. We don't need some ceremony for that." She glanced at Tonks, amused. "Besides, I think you might be a little prejudiced."

The witch grinned down at the ring on her finger and rubbed her belly. "Maybe a little bit." She sobered and looked up at Rose. "But I've got to remember the good things in life, or else I'll go mad. That's the most important thing I could ever tell you, Rose—remember the good. No matter how hard it gets, remember the good."

Rose bit her lip and hugged Tonks close, blinking away tears. "I'll try, yeah?"

There was a knock at the door, and it swung open to reveal the Doctor standing there, his hands in his pockets and a thoughtful expression on his face. He smiled uncertainly at them. "I'm about ready to drop everyone off. Your husband was looking for you, by the way. He was in the kitchen, last I saw him."

"Right, I'll go see if I can find him." Tonks smiled and gave Rose one last squeeze before waddling off down the hallway, leaving the Doctor watching Rose contemplatively.

She raised an eyebrow and watched him right back. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

He shook his head and came back from wherever his mind had been. "Nope, all clear." When she got up to leave, he spoke again. "Rose, would you like to get married?"

She sat down again, stunned. "_What?_"

"Would you like to get married? It's a simple question."

She stared at him. "No, it's not. It's really, really not." When he started to speak again, she cut him off. "Wait, were you listening to our conversation?"

"I didn't mean to, exactly." He pulled at his ear and glanced around nervously when she just watched him levelly. "Oh, alright. I did mean to, after a bit. It was just you two were talking about me, and I didn't want to barge in and make it awkward."

Rose's eyebrows shot up. "Since when have you ever cared about making things awkward?"

He raised a finger insistently and opened his mouth, only to close it again a moment later. "Point. I may have been a bit... curious."

"A bit?"

He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. "More than a bit."

"You could just ask instead of eavesdroppin', y'know."

"Well, I _did_ just ask. Your response was, and I quote, '_What?_'"

"Well, it's a big question!"

"Is it, though? I swore I'd never leave you, that you could spend the rest of your life with me. You—and the TARDIS—ensured that I could spend the rest of my life with you, curse of the Time Lords be damned."

Rose bit her lip and looked down. "Yeah, but things might change. Who knows, maybe in a few decades you'll want somethin' different." He laughed incredulously at that and she looked up, her expression troubled. "Don't laugh. What if you run into someone smarter, more accomplished? What am I s'posed to do then?"

"Rose, I would never—oh." The Doctor stopped and swallowed nervously. He stepped closer to her, his voice very soft. "Rose, that wasn't because you weren't enough. That wasn't it at all."

"Then what was it? 'Cause I've tried and tried, and I never really understood it. You'd just promised me that you'd never leave me, and then you were gone."

He pulled her gently into his arms, despite her perfunctory struggles. "Do you have any idea how much you scare me, Rose?" She stiffened, and he rubbed her back, grimacing. "All right, that came out far worse than I intended it. But, really, Rose, you can so easily terrify me."

She glared up at him, her petite frame tense in his arms. "Is this you tryin' to be—"

He laid a long finger against her lips, stopping her mid-rant. "Please, Rose, can I finish? I know I'm not very good at this, but I'm trying."

She pursed her lips together and he continued, his voice low and hesitating. "I was ready to die when I met you, Rose. I hadn't planned on surviving Henrick's. But you woke something up in me, something I thought was gone forever. You made me want to live again, if only to show you the universe. But then we met Sarah Jane again, and she was so different—I couldn't ignore the fact that you were human anymore, and that scared me witless."

Rose snorted. "Not gonna argue with that." She subsided at his look.

"I thought if I somehow convinced you to leave, losing you would hurt less. Then we ended up in the parallel universe, and I almost did lose you."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Gingerbread houses, Rose. Your dad was alive, and I'd already seen what he meant to you." He smiled humorlessly. "I was so afraid of losing you that I didn't even notice Mickey drifting away."

Rose glared up at him. "How thick _are_ you? No matter what happened with Pete, how did you not notice what _you_ meant to me? Was the whole Bad Wolf thing not clear enough for you, or would you rather I just clubbed you over the head and dragged you back to the TARDIS?" Their eyes locked, and they broke into helpless laughter. Rose ended up slung in between the Doctor's legs, his arms loosely around her back.

He rested his forehead against hers, his gaze intent on hers and so close that he was cross-eyed. "You mean so much to me, Rose. Even when we lost the TARDIS on Krop Tor, as long as I had you, it was bearable. And now we have the rest of our lives together. That's why I'm asking you to marry me, Rose." He paused and grimaced. "Well, that and I don't really fancy being called your _boyfriend_."

She chuckled and rested her forehead against his shoulder. "What, Time Lords aren't boyfriend material?"

"Not really husband material, either, but I've got to say, you might be top-notch wife material."

Rose's voice was dry. "I'm flattered, really." He was giving her that _look_ again, the wounded puppy look, and she sighed. "Doctor, just give me some time to think about it, all right? Marriage is a big step."

"So's matching lifespans, and we managed that already."

She couldn't help but smile at that as she relaxed into his arms. "It's just… it seems so _human_. You don't need to do this for me, y'know."

"But you _are_ human, Rose, and you've been raised in a cultural context that values marriage. I don't lose anything in giving you this. In fact, I'd say that I would gain rather a lot."

"You do realize if we get married, you would have my mother for a Mum-in-law."

He sniffed. "Well, some things can't be helped."

"And she'd insist on having some frilly, over-the-top ceremony."

He paused. "We _could_ elope, you know."

"What, and have her hold that over our heads for the rest of her life?" Rose snorted. "No, thank you. She'd never forgive you."

The Doctor sputtered, indignant. "Wait, what? It'd be our wedding—and why would it be only _me_ she'd never forgive?"

"Easy. She's my Mum. She'd be bound to forgive me, sooner or later." Rose pulled back and grinned at him. "Now, come on. We can talk about this later—you said somethin' about getting some people home?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The TARDIS shuddered as it reentered the Vortex, leaving the last of the Order behind. Remus had been their final passenger, and he'd requested that the Doctor leave him near a were pack that had been receiving delegates from Voldemort for months. Rose had forced herself to give him a cheerful farewell, and it wasn't until the TARDIS stabilized in the Vortex that she started crying and found the Doctor's arms wrapped around her.

"Shh. I know. I know." He pulled her more tightly against him, his face buried in her hair. "I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so, so sorry." She just cried harder, thinking of Fred's incessant jokes and Tonks' warm smile.

After a long while, the tears slowed and she caught her breath. The Doctor had pulled out the string of handkerchiefs again, and he'd finally managed to detach one to give to her. Rose wiped away her tears and blew her nose, feeling stuffy and miserable. The Doctor tugged her over to the jump seat and pulled her into his arms, and they just rested and watched the steady pulse of the Time Rotor.

Rose was almost surprised at how tired her voice sounded when she spoke. "Was it worth it?"

"What do you mean, Rose?"

She turned bloodshot brown eyes on the Doctor plaintively. "Did we help?"

The Doctor closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing only on the deep tangle that was the final Voldemort-led Wizarding war. The timelines of the people who had occupied the TARDIS over the past few days stood out like brilliant embers, and he smiled. "We did, Rose." He opened his eyes to gaze reverently down at her. "Or rather, you did. Your ideas helped save so many people, Rose. With the combination of the perception filters and Potterwatch, Muggle-borns and rebels on the run finally had a chance against the Snatchers, and they took it with a vengeance."

Rose shifted uncomfortably. "It wasn't just me. You're the one that built the filters, and they'd have thought of Potterwatch eventually."

"Maybe, maybe not. But you thought of them first, and that gives you the credit."

She looked down and blushed before a thought struck her, and she sat up hurriedly. "Did the potion work, Doctor?"

He froze and turned his attention inwards, his brow furrowing. After a long moment, he looked at her. "Let's go and find out."

The TARDIS ground into existence in a shadowy corner of the Shrieking Shack. The Doctor opened the door cautiously, but the only other person in the room was laying deathly pale on the ground, his dark eyes fixed on nothing. Rose gasped and darted forward, falling to her knees beside the still form of Severus Snape. She hesitantly reached a hand out towards his pulse before pulling it back and turning worried eyes on the Doctor.

"Did it work? Can we help him, Doctor?"

He was scanning the body carefully with his sonic screwdriver, his expression grim. "I'm not sure. The best we can do is to bring him to the infirmary, and treat him when the Draught's effects wear off."

Rose bit her lip, and her eyes flared gold. There was a familiar _crack_ of energy, and Fawkes appeared.

The Doctor stared for a moment before shaking his head bemusedly. "So in addition to an absurdly long life, you've gained what, phoenix summoning powers?"

She flushed as the golden glow faded, leaving her face pale in the shadowy room. "It's not like I'm controllin' it. An' I dunno—Fawkes just feels _right_ to me, somehow."

He watched her face carefully before heading back into the TARDIS, returning a few minutes later with a collapsible trolley. Rose helped him shift the still figure onto the bed, with Fawkes perched awkwardly on Snape's shoulder.

The hours wore on, as the Doctor attempted to repair Snape's injury and Fawkes wept steadily into the oozing wound. Rose curled up against the examining table, the Doctor's copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ in her lap. It was irritatingly sparse in its discussion of antidotes, and she doubted Snape would appreciate his own advice at the moment—if the Doctor had tried to stuff a bezoar down his throat, it probably would have popped out through the gaping hole Nagini had left behind.

She dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her eyes, frustrated. They had to be able to save _somebody_. The Doctor had been carefully replenishing Snape's poison-tainted blood, but the nauseating red-black liquid that was pumped out of his veins didn't give Rose much hope.

The Doctor worked feverishly with the dermal regenerator, but something about the poison that had infected the wound split the skin even as the Doctor repaired it.

Rose groaned and set aside the old textbook, standing up to gently pull Snape's blood-slicked hair away from his neck. "Doctor, I can't find anything. The most powerful antidote mentioned is phoenix tears, and we're already tryin' that."

Fawkes had been quietly watching the Doctor dart around the infirmary, his glittering tears seeping down into the pustulent wound. As the Doctor's work became more and more frantic, he raised an elegant claw and slashed his own breast, spilling vibrantly crimson blood into the snakebite. Rose and the Doctor both cried out in protest, but the fresh phoenix blood hissed and spattered as it hit the wound—burning away the malignant poison that had been impeding the Doctor's work. The phoenix glared at him until he once again turned on the dermal regenerator—this time with better results.

Fawkes looked up at Rose, his black eyes calm and amused. _Do not be afraid, little one. I know what I'm doing._

She froze, eyes wide. _You can talk?_

A gentle rumble of laughter touched her mind. _You have already heard my voice, Wolf-child. Our songs are the same—yours, mine, and the All-Seer's._

_ The All-Seer?_ Even as she formed the question, Rose felt the golden song of the TARDIS wind through her mind, joining with the phoenix's in perfect harmony. Rose gently brushed the lank, dark hair away from Snape's high forehead, her brow furrowed. _Fawkes?_

_Yes, little one?_

_Do you think he'll make it? He deserves so much more than to die like this._

Fawkes leaned forwards, rubbing his red-plumed head gently against Snape's pale cheek. _With the Doctor and the All-Seer at his side, I have no doubt he shall survive._ The phoenix stumbled a little as he leaned over Snape's neck, his feathers dulling as his life-blood poured into the near fatal wound. At Rose's pulse of worry, he met her eyes again. _Be at peace, Wolf-child. The flames do not frighten me. The Darkling has long been loyal to my esteemed one, and I shall gladly repay his fealty._

The Doctor made a small noise of triumph as he finished reconstructing the mangled cords of Snape's throat, leaving only the final layers of skin to be repaired. Fawkes stumbled away from the nearly-sealed wound, his once-vibrant red feathers now stained with his own blood. Rose caught him gently, and he curled into her arms with a quiet trill. _The flames will awaken soon, and the All-Seer would not be happy with me if I burnt you, little one._ There was a slight whooshing noise to Rose's left and she found herself standing next to a tall glass cylinder, the center panel open above a deep nest of ashes. She gently place Fawkes inside and slid the door shut, resting a hand against the thick glass.

The Doctor finished sealing up the wound and fell back against the opposite counter, his gloves blood-stained but his smile relieved. He grinned at Rose and pulled the thin gloves off, twirling her around the room with a giddy laugh. "We did it, Rose. We did it."

She grinned up at him, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. "He'll make it, then?"

"He will. Look at that, just _look _ at it. Thanks to Fawkes and some judiciously applied 91st century equipment, there won't even be any scarring."

Rose leaned closer, staring amazed at the smooth skin where, only hours ago, there had once been the bloody, mangled remains of a throat.

The throat swallowed, and she stepped back nervously only to meet the confused and hostile gaze of Severus Snape. "Is there a reason I'm being ogled like a sideshow attraction, Miss Tyler, or are you simply rude?"

The Doctor snorted and wrapped an arm around Rose's waist. "Actually, I'm the rude one. Rose was just examining the repairs."

"Repairs?" Snape's gaze was still somewhat hazy, and Rose bit her lip.

"D'you remember what happened?"

"I remember being called to the Shack... Potter!" He attempted to sit up, only to groan and collapse almost immediately. He met Rose's eyes again, his gaze far clearer and infinitely more worried. "Did he succeed? Is the Dark Lord vanquished?"

The Doctor reappeared at his side, a cup of vile-looking sludge in his hand. "As we speak, actually. With the memories you gave him, Harry has finally learned the truth about himself, and he is able to use that information to defeat Voldemort."

Snape recoiled at that name, and Rose reached out and grabbed his hand. "Don't worry. The Taboo doesn't affect us, in here—we're perfectly safe."

He jerked his hand out of hers, his eyes darting around the infirmary. His eyes landed on the glass cylinder surrounding Fawkes, and he winced away from the blinding flames that enveloped the phoenix. Rose hurried back to the cylinder, opening it to pull out the tiny, bedraggled phoenix chick. He cooed and tucked himself more tightly into her hands, and Snape seemed to relax. He accepted the glass of nutrients from the Doctor and swallowed it down with a light grimace, his eyes busily cataloging the glossy, sterile room.

The Doctor helped him sit up and leaned back, watching him steadily. "So. You're alive, Severus Snape. You've fulfilled your vow, and you're free. The question is, where do you want to go next?"

Snape watched the baby phoenix in Rose's hands, his eyes contemplative. He nodded to himself and turned to the Doctor. "Id' like to return to Hogwarts."

Rose frowned and leaned next to the Doctor, petting the rather ugly creature in her hands. "But if you go back there, you'll be arrested on sight! It's not safe for you there."

"Miss Tyler, for most of my life that school has held my one true sense of home. It gave me purpose when I could find nothing but regret in my life, and it might be Wizarding society's only chance of a future. The Wizarding World has spent decades binding its younger generations with outdated concepts, instilling in them a crippling fear of progress. If we do not fight that cultural stagnation in our students, we will only continue to fade. The one true inevitability in life is change, and we must face that if we are ever to learn from our past."

The Doctor nodded gravely at him. "I'd be happy to help you return."

_And I with him_. Rose blinked and looked down at the bald chick in her hands, surprised to sense the same ancient presence as before. Laughter rippled from the phoenix's mind, and she blushed. _Appearances do not govern age, as you should well know, little one. _ The phoenix chick turned its dark gaze to Snape, who was watching the interaction intently. _I shall return with the Darkling, that he shall be protected. _Rose bit her lip against the mental image of the feeble chick fighting off an ogre, and felt another ripple of laughter. _There is more than one form of protection in the universe, Wolf-child. After all, do you not protect your Doctor?_

_ 'S more like he protects me, most of the time._

_Your love is his protection, little one. You stand guard against the darkness in his heart, whether you know it or not._ Rose flushed deeply and looked up to meet the Doctor's curious gaze, an irrepressible smile growing on her face. _Give me to the Darkling, that we may return to the school to begin its recovery. There is much future to be shaped there, and it will be a long task._

_ Goodbye, Fawkes. _The tiny phoenix managed to bow clumsily to her, and she stroked his head gently. _I'm so glad I met you_.

_We will meet again, Wolf-child. Fare you well._ She turned the tiny phoenix over to a bemused Snape and followed the Doctor to the console room, her steps light. The Doctor watched her curiously, but his focus was soon taken up by piloting the TARDIS into the Headmaster's office once again.

They landed with a jolt and a shudder, and he helped her up from the floor with a grin. She grinned back, her mind made up. When the Doctor turned to bounce out the door, she caught his hand in hers.

"Doctor?"

He turned back, his expression inquisitive. "Yes, Rose?"

"Yes."

He blinked, looking adorably confused. "What? You're being awfully enigmatic. You're not supposed to be enigmatic, you're Rose."

She just grinned even more widely at him, her eyes dancing. "Yes."

The Doctor frowned, annoyed. "Yes, _what_? What do you mean, just 'Yes'?" He paused, and the bulb lit. His eyes widened cartoonishly. "Wait, yes? Really? Yes?"

She laughed. "_Yes._"

He shouted joyously, pulling her into his arms and spinning her until she was dizzy. Their laughter filled the room, and he set her down and kissed her exuberantly. She was just getting her hands into that _gorgeous_ hair of his when he pulled back, frowning. "Wait, just to be clear, you _are _saying yes to marrying me?"

"Well, I hate to sound like a broken record here... but yes, I am." He laughed and kissed her once more, but they were broken apart _again_ by the cleared throat from the hallway. The Doctor glared at Snape, who glared right back.

"If the two of you are done slobbering all over each other, I believe we had a destination in mind."

"Right out those doors, Professor."

Rose poked him in the ribs. "Doctor! We can't just send 'im out there alone, he'd get hauled off to Azkaban as soon as he could blink."

The Doctor grumbled, but he stepped away from Rose and walked over to the door, gesturing towards it with a flourish. "Right. This way, then." Snape led the way out, Fawkes in hand. As Rose passed the Doctor, he caught her around the waist and nuzzled into her neck. "One of these days, we won't be interrupted." She shivered at the heated promise in his voice and grinned over her shoulder at him.

"Then I'm lookin' forward to that day. This day, though, we've got a mess to help clean up. An' after that, we're tellin' Mum." She stepped out of the TARDIS, leaving the Doctor to bang his head against the door.


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

Harriet Jones, former Prime Minister sat at her breakfast table, enjoying the late morning sunlight while scanning through the news for possible extraterrestrial contact. It was a habit she'd gotten into during her time in office, and it had never gone away. '_Series of Abductions along Cottage Road'… most likely aliens. I do hope Captain Harkness will be able to help._ A grinding pulse began to echo throughout the room, and a brisk wind blew her papers about. She blinked in the wind and stared at the kitchen doorway, where a painfully familiar blue police box had just begun to materialize. She stood quickly and attempted to straighten her loose grey jumper, grimacing a little bit at the state of her hair. No matter. The Doctor had seen her at her worst before.

After a few nerve-wracking minutes, the doors creaked open, revealing a trim pinstriped figure and a familiar female voice. "Just get out there and _talk_ to her! You may not give second chances to your enemies, but Harriet Jones didn't deserve how you treated her. Now _go_."

The Doctor stepped out of his TARDIS, his hands deep in his pockets. The doors shut briskly behind him, and he spun when he heard the noise, his shoulders nearly rigid from discomfort.

Harriet cleared her throat. "Would you like a cup of tea, Doctor? I believe there is still plenty in the pot—my daughter sent me a rather lovely Earl Grey blend the other day, and I've found it's just the thing for a morning cup."

"That sounds lovely, thanks," The Doctor walked over to her breakfast table, shifting the papers his arrival had disturbed away from a second chair and sitting nervously. He waited for her to serve him—somehow, Harriet was not surprised. He fiddled around with his tea and refused to meet her eyes, and she shook her head in bemusement as she cleared her table of the newspaper debris. A near-immortal guardian of Earth, and he was behaving like a recalcitrant child. He picked up his cup to take a sip, and she nearly dropped her sheaf of papers. A simple gold wedding band shone in the sunlight.

She raised her eyebrows and straightened the Mr. Copper Foundation reports. "You do tend to make a mess when you appear, don't you Doctor?"

At that, he flinched and finally met her eyes. She'd never met anyone who carried quite so many years in their eyes as the Doctor, in either incarnation, though Jack Harkness in Cardiff carried some of that same exhaustion of the over-experienced in his expression.

The Doctor watched her carefully, his brow furrowed. "Harriet Jones. You were supposed to be Prime Minister for three consecutive terms, you know. And then I came along. First of all, you ended so many lives with the decision to fire, and don't think I've forgotten that." His dark eyes bored into her, and she straightened her spine. He'd already made his opinion of her quite clear enough, thank you, but then he continued, speaking to the tablecloth. "But secondly—there is no way of knowing how many lives you saved. Rose is right," he said, and laughed a little. "She often is. The Sycorax had already shown their predilection for attacking when their opponent's back is turned, and there is no guarantee that they wouldn't have returned with an armada."

"I've already considered this, Doctor. Indeed, in the time that has passed since Christmas, I've thought of little else."

"I've done you a great disservice, Harriet Jones." His expression was completely earnest. The Doctor sat at her breakfast table, apologizing and sipping tea from her daughter. Harriet surreptitiously pinched herself.

"May I ask what brought about this change in opinion? As I recall, Doctor, the last time we met you were quite clear about being a man of no second chances."

He glanced at the TARDIS behind him, where Rose presumably waited behind those blue doors. "I was given one myself, recently."

"And how is Rose?"

He smiled softly. "She's fantastic, absolutely fantastic. She'd love to see you. She just insisted that I talk to you first."

"Ah. Is this her doing, then?" When he looked at her blankly, she gestured between them. He flushed and scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Yes, well, in part, perhaps. She was the one who convinced me that I needed to rethink how I'd treated you. Harriet Jones… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He grimaced. "If it weren't for the fact that it was I who distorted the timelines, I'd offer to go back and repair what I'd done, but I'm far too much a part of the established events to offer you that."

She shook her head, half in protest and half in utter confusion. "I have made my peace with it, Doctor. And I still do the best I can, for Britain and for mankind."

"Of course you do." The Doctor's eyes were nearly glowing with pride and approval, and Harriet steeled herself against the instinctive satisfaction that threatened to shake her equilibrium. He was a changeable creature, the Doctor, and she had to consider what he would do if he were unhappy with her again. His smile dimmed a little, and he reached out and covered her hand. "I am sorry, Harriet Jones. But perhaps you should consider running for office again. You may be strong enough to keep going without Britain, but Britain is far stronger with you."

Harriet blinked away a sudden dampness in her eyes. "I think I will consider it, Doctor." He smiled at her and turned to fetch Rose, and she reached out and touched his shoulder. "Wait. There's something you should know. There's an organization called Torchwood—it's been around for over a century, and you are their prime target."

She looked down and fiddled with the small gold watch on her wrist. "I wasn't supposed to know about them, really, but just after I was elected I busied myself with knowing the purpose of each section of my government. They are beyond any jurisdiction I know of, and they're dangerous. I've personally met the woman in charge of the London branch several times—one Yvonne Hartman. She is quite obsessed with you, Doctor, and refused to let me alone once she discovered somehow that I had met you. I deleted Rose and her family from every account that I could, but there's no knowing what information they have at their disposal. Be careful, Doctor. She is that most dangerous type of fanatic—she truly believes she is doing good. If she were attempting to get her hands on you, I honestly don't know where she would stop."

He nodded grimly before knocking on the door of the TARDIS, and Harriet was distracted by the blonde blur that emerged to crush her into a hug. She smiled and held Rose tightly. "Hello, my dear girl. I apparently have you to thank for my morning visitor."

Rose pulled back with a laugh, her eyes watering. "'S the least we could do, really. I've missed you."

"And I you, Rose. Please, would you like some tea?"

"I'd love some, thanks." She sat down beside the Doctor, and Harriet surreptitiously glanced at her hand as she passed her a cup of tea. A matching wedding band encircled Rose's finger, and Harriet found herself unable to stop smiling as Rose peppered her with questions about what she had been up to, the Doctor sitting back with a smile as he watched his wife.

It was a very good thing that he had her, Harriet privately decided. As powerful and intelligent as the Doctor may be, he desperately needed someone to ground him, and it seemed Rose was doing that duty admirably.

All in all, it was one of the best mornings she had had in the past few months—or at least it was, until the bread she'd been baking ended up being burnt to a cinder because of the Doctor's parking job.

FINIS


End file.
